AN: A whole new story just for you, my amazing readers! Yay! :D
The idea for this story was suggested by bashfyl, an amazing reader that I am so ever so grateful for! Thank you so much for coming up with such a fun idea! :)
Happy Reading! Enjoy!
Chapter 1
SPOV
I lay upon my bed, another tremble running through me as green, lifeless eyes float back to the forefront of my mind. Death. The concept is nothing new to me, having lost both my parents at the fragile age of seven, but to see a lifeless body…now that is something I had hoped I would never have to encounter…ever.
"Dammit," I sigh out, sitting up in bed as I know I'll be granted no semblance of restful sleep this night. Why did it have to be me to find poor Dawn sprawled lifeless across her floral covered bed? I fear I may never shake the haunting sight of my friend's lifeless eyes as they gazed up at me, frozen in such obvious horror. What a terrible way to die, I mean death is always horrible, but to be so brutally murdered…Another shiver runs through me as I stand to my feet and make my way to the window, looking out over the moon washed lawn.
A grim frown crosses my face then as I recall the second horrific bit of news to come from this awful ordeal. My own flesh and blood brother is being accused of the crime. They locked him up after he admitted to having slept with not only Dawn, but Maudette Pickens as well, the first victim of what seems to be quickly becoming a small town killing spree.
I can't help rolling my eyes thinking over the dozens of other Bon Temps women who have also shared my horn dog of a brother's bed. Yes, I can admit my brother is a bit of a womanizer, not having even the sense God gave a goat, but that certainly doesn't make him a murderer. Jason Stackhouse wouldn't hurt so much as a fly. A light knock sounds upon my door then and I turn with a warm smile as the soft light of the hall outlines the familiar silhouette of my dear Gran as she pushes open the door.
"Sookie, dear," she says softly, stepping into the room, a sterling tray clutched within her aging hands. I click on my bedside lamp then, having to stifle a laugh as I see she's brought me her sugary cure that always seems to mend whatever ails me from the time I was a small child.
"Your famous pecan pie, how did you know?" I question teasingly as a knowing smile crosses over her winkled features, her blue eyes twinkling with decades of wisdom.
"I could practically hear your mind racing, child," she teases back, bringing a snort of amusement from me as she settles herself upon the rocking chair beside my bed, handing me one of the small plates with a wink.
"I thought that was my job," I tease back, sitting upon the bed with the heavenly scented confectionary dessert with a satisfied sigh. I take a bite, closing my eyes in pure bliss as the familiar taste takes me back to happier days of my youth. "Delicious, Gran, thank you," I tell her, glancing up to see a troubled expression settling upon her aging face.
"I was thinking," she starts hesitantly, poking at her own pie absently as her head tilts thoughtfully. "Perhaps you could use your gift to help your brother," she suggests softly, bringing a defeated sigh from me as I nod to her.
"I suppose I'll need to," I agree, not looking forward at all at the concept of digging through the slimy thoughts of the citizens of Bon Temps. A cringe runs through me as I once more curse this damn disability of mine. I abhor having to hear everyone's inner most thoughts and have to work hard, never letting down my guard, in order to protect my mind from being constantly assaulted by graphic images of sex, lust, greed and God knows what else from anyone within my immediate vicinity.
"Oh, Sookie," Gran sighs out, rising from her chair to settle beside me on the bed before taking my hand into her own. "You are blessed with a very special gift, my child. I only wish you could learn to see your mind reading as the blessing it truly is," she tells me once more as I shrug absently, knowing I could never be thankful for such an awful ability.
"Yeah, alright," I sigh out, forcing a smile that I know my grandmother can see right through. "I'll listen in to see if I can find anything to help Jason," I agree, knowing full well my stubborn nature will surely find me treading through mounds of filthy thoughts in order to help out my kin.
"You're a brave soul, my Sookie," Gran whispers, leaning over to press a soft kiss to my cheek as a genuine smile pulls at my lips. "Now let's not let this pie go to waste," she adds with a wink, bringing a small chuckle from me as we dig back into our desserts together.
I decide to enjoy this bit of peace with my grandmother, quickly falling into a familiar routine of listening to her prattle on about small town gossip, a small smirk crossing my face even as I know what a long day I have before me. It won't be fun, but I'm determined to see my brother freed for this crime, if only to grant our grandmother some peace of mind.
EPOV
I fight back yet another eye roll, looking once more to my office clock as I wish to be literally any fucking place else right now. Fucking Sophie Anne Leclurq. As much as I despise having to bow to the demands of the annoyingly selfish child Queen, my Viking blood literally boiling at the mere thought of such, it sure as hell beats having to rule over the state in her place. Fucking politics, I've never had a mind for such things.
"I need you to push the blood harder, Eric," she demands once more, a deep scowl forming over her crimson painted lips as I fight back a sigh, nodding to her in understanding.
"Of course, your Majesty," I concur, hating being put in such a compromising position, not doubting for a fucking second the selfish Queen would shove me under the bus without a second thought if higher powers were to catch wind of her absurd plans to make some quick cash by selling our sacred blood.
"Fucking taxes," she growls, digging her immaculately polished nails into the leather chair arms. "I'm a fucking Queen. I should be above such tediousness," she whines as I nod once more, wishing once more that this fucking meeting would just end already.
"I will do all I can, my Queen," I assure her, earning a firm nod from my superior as she rises to her feet, her second, Andre, standing along with her as they both hit me with dual, condescending glares.
"See that you do," she answers back haughtily. My jaw clenches in annoyance as I rise to my own feet, slightly bowing my head to my superior as I remind myself once more it's not worth the trouble to fight against her. She's only lucky I'm rather content being the big fish in my own, small pond here in Area 5.
"Until we meet again," I offer, watching as the two trail from my office together, their noses lifted high in self-righteousness. "Thank fucking Odin," I sigh out, dropping back down to my office chair with a scowl. I was starting to think they'd never fucking leave. I glance back to the clock then, my frown deepening as I realize just how late my child is for work. What could be keeping her?
"Thalia!" I call out in irritancy, soon seeing the petite, scowling vampiress standing at my door. "Have you heard from Pam yet?" I question, lifting my phone to see I have no missed calls, no missed messages.
"No, Master," Thalia answers back shortly as I let out a deep sigh, realizing my child has likely stopped for a bite on her way to work. I do so love my child, but she truly can be a real pain in the ass, though, I suppose it was that same, defiant spirit of hers that called me to turn her all those years ago.
"Take her place at the door," I command dismissively, seeing the diminutive vampiress disappear from the corner of my vision as I turn my attention to the small cooler left behind by the Queen. "Fucking Sophie Anne," I growl out, picking up the offending cooler filled with vials of our kind's blood as I try and decide just what to do about this dilemma my superior has left me in.
A frown settles upon my face as I recall the words of my Maker as he explained how sacred our healing bloods were to our kind, something never to be taken for granted and never to be shared unless in utter reverence. A pang of guilt juts through me as I wonder what Godric would make of my current situation.
My frown deepens as I find the bond between Godric and myself is still closed down quite securely. I have no idea why he has been blocking himself off from me these last months, but decide to grant him his privacy. He knows just where to find me if he is ever in any need and a vampire as ancient and powerful as he is surely more than capable of taking care of himself quite aptly.
My head shoots up then, absolute terror flooding through me just before I'm brought to my knees in utter despair. "Pam," I whisper through the searing pain, clutching my chest tightly as bloody tears begin welling within my eyes. "No," I whisper through the tears, shaking my head in utter disbelief as I feel my child's life beginning to slip away.
GPOV
I prop my head upon my folded arms, stretching my body across the stiff, wooden pew as I gaze upon the darkened stained glass above me. I focus upon the faux sunbeams as I once more try to come to terms with my churning and admittedly, rather disturbing thoughts. I wonder once more if my sacrifice could truly make a real difference, if humans are truly capable of learning anything from one vampire's willingness to meet the sun.
I fear I may have been too rash in my decision in handing myself over to the vampire hate group and have to stifle a chuckle as I find myself wondering what my headstrong, Viking child would think of my current situation. No, I know what my Eric would say. He would tell me what a fool I am. He would tell me I am growing soft in my old age and I fear I could not rightly disagree with such thoughts. Perhaps I have grown soft in my two thousand years upon this earth, but is that really such a bad thing?
I sit up then, letting out an unnecessary sigh as I once more try to rise above the century's worth of guilt that has steadily been building within me, bringing me to this current despondent state. I know it is my own depression, my own shame that has brought me to this place. For countless years I killed without mercy, brutally ripping my way through body after countless, faceless body in waves of unholy bloodshed. I deserve harsh punishment for my many atrocities; though I cannot help feeling this may not be the correct way for me to atone after all.
"Eric," I whisper, sitting up abruptly as I feel even through our muted bond, the sudden, utter despair radiating from my child. I speed through the church then, all prior thoughts of possible suicide forgotten as I rush to aide my child.
I soon find myself soaring through the starry sky, flying at invisible speeds, desperate to join my child in his obvious time of need. I open the bond between us fully and my flight falters as I am suddenly hit with waves of overwhelming despair. Never, in all our thousand years spent together have I felt anguish anywhere near this degree coming from my warrior child. Whatever has caused this deep grief within him is surely earth shattering and as his Maker, I cannot in good conscience let him face such a sorrowful ache alone.
Finally, after what seems hours, but can only be mere minutes, a familiar, golden head can be seen below and quickly I drop down before rushing forward to find my ever stoic, ever strong child weeping with a grief deep enough to match my own. I look around, surprised to find we are in a cemetery. What has happened? I stop dead in my tracks then, finally discovering the cause of my child's plight as I drop to my knees beside him in disbelief.
"Pamela," I choke out, my own sorrow swirling with that of my child's as I take in the devastating shape of Eric's own child as he desperately tries to force his blood over her broken, bloody lips. She has obviously been tortured, her pale body wracked with numerous, deep lacerations and my undead heart breaks at the shattering sight.
"Ludwig's on her way," Eric assures his child, gripping her limp body to his chest in desperation. "Just hold on a bit longer," he pleads as Pam begins coughing up the blood he's tried to feed her, unable to even swallow in her severely injured state. Her life force is fading at an alarming rate and as much as it kills me to admit, I know she is beyond saving.
"Eric," I whisper, reaching up to place a comforting hand upon his broad shoulders as they begin to tremble under the weight of his crushing misery. He shakes his head adamantly, unwilling to accept the truth.
"No, I won't lose her," he grits out, pulling her dying body closer as my heart breaks for the both of them.
"Eric," the soft voice breathes; barely audible even to our vampire ears as we both look down to meet Pamela's sapphire, pain filled eyes. "I'm sorry," she chokes out, falling into a fitful cough that manages to bring bloody tears to my own eyes.
"No, don't talk, save your strength. We're gonna get you through this, you hear me? Don't you fucking give up on me, dammit!" Eric cries, desperation clear in his words as Pam's pale hand reaches up to caress her Maker's blood stained face.
"I love you," she whispers, looking between us, a forced smile forming over her face just before her body begins to disintegrate before our very eyes.
"No!" Eric cries out, frantically trying to hold together the degenerating body as crimson tears are streaming down his face in earnest. The warrior's defeated form is shuddering as he proceeds to weep desolately and I press myself along his back, wrapping my arms around him tightly as he ensues to break down within my embrace.
No words are needed as I send him what little comfort I can muster, desperate to make this somehow better for him as I feel my child's heart breaking to shattered pieces. He presses his face against my neck, his bloody tears joining my own as we mourn our loss together and it's not until I feel the first, stinging light of the dawn biting at my skin that I force myself to stand, pulling my child up to join me.
"We need to find shelter, my child," I remind him gently, earning a slight nod in return. He meets my eyes, clear gratitude shining from within the cobalt depths and I nod my understanding before the two of us launch ourselves into the quickly lightening sky.
We fly in silence and as I feel my child's despair turning to feelings of outright rage, I know whoever is responsible for our Pamela's death will pay justly for their crimes.