Miscommunication

Disclaimer: Anyone/anything you recognize belongs to Charlaine Harris/Alan Ball.

So I tried to work on an update for Meet the Moon, but it just wasn't happening for me. This little one-shot has been bouncing around inside my head for a while and wouldn't let me work on anything else until it was finished.

I've never written an Eric POV before, so I'm a bit nervous. Hopefully ya'll like it . . . Enjoy!

"Why does it feel like you're saying goodbye to me?"

"Because I am."

Though she'd swallowed little more than a drop or two of my blood weeks ago, I had no trouble feeling the echoes of her dread reverberating between us. It upset me, but not enough to lie. I'd leave that to Compton; deceit seemed to be a particular strength of his.

Her lips parted, a soft pink heart just begging to be penetrated. I'd spent many hours wondering how she'd taste, what her warm, soft body felt like wrapped around mine. My time to find out was slipping away, along with my patience. Russell was after me and the end was just around the corner, but I refused to go into final death without having at least tasted Sookie Stackhouse.

My self-control had all but disintegrated and before she could say anything else or start yet another argument, I kissed her. Hard and like I'd wanted to since the night she strolled into the bar completely innocent and untouched.

Her cry of surprise was muffled in my mouth, the vibrations racing through me. She tasted nothing like I imagined. She was sweet and strong, yet her lips were as delicate as flower petals. Her tiny hands pushed against me, tried to get away, but it was half-hearted. From the way her mouth was moving against mine, I could tell that it was exactly where she'd wanted it to be, and I intended to keep it there for as long as possible. The struggle lasted a second, no more, before she tumbled back into the kiss, our weak bond burning between us. I wanted that bond to be stronger; I wanted her to feel me as honestly and as often as I felt her.

My tongue pressed against her lips and my fingers tightened in the thin fabric of her t-shirt, pulling her flush against me. I was bent almost in half, unable to bring her close enough.

Much to my surprise, Sookie was the one to deepen the kiss, plunging her succulent tongue in my mouth, recklessly teasing the two sharp points waiting for her. Whether she drew blood simply to torture me of if it was nothing more than an accident, I didn't care. The result was divine.

Her back was bent almost to a right angle as she leaned in such a way to allow us as much physical contact and the deepest tongue penetration possible. The gray shirt did little to hide the pounding in her chest against mine, like a hammer and chisel. Little by little, she was breaking me down, working her way in, despite my efforts to keep feelings separate.

At some point, she managed to back me against the shelves, taking control of the kiss—for the moment, anyway. I'd just broken through the annoying rubber in her hair, allowing it to spill over her shoulders and my hand. She must have showered before she came; her hair smelled soft and cool, the waves creating a rainbow of gold that sparkled in the low light.

Things were progressing nicely, with her putting up almost no resistance. I'd just begun to stroke and untangle the silken strands as I introduced her to a taste of what one can learn with a thousand years of experience when I felt a vibration against my hip—and not the good kind.

She flew out of my arms like I'd electrocuted her and dug the cell phone deep out of her pocket.

"Bill?"

I was tempted to take the phone from her hand and snap it in half, but that would only bring a resounding end to our . . . moment, which was something I could not allow. This opportunity would come only once and it was fleeting.

Even from my spot on the other side of the room, it was nothing for me to hear his side of the conversation. "Where are you?"

She turned her back to me as if that would give her more privacy. I allowed it only because I enjoyed the view of her backside in those tight denim cutoffs. They barely peeked out beneath the hem of her t-shirt, taunting me. "I'm in Shreveport."

"Why?"

". . . I needed to talk to him."

I crossed my arms and leaned back slightly, more than a little intrigued by their conversation. Her bottom lip was pulled between her teeth and her brow was furrowed when she turned around. She looked stunning as anxiety began to mix with her arousal.

Our eyes met, her desire surged, perfuming the air, and my admittedly lax control waned further. Tiny dewdrops of sweat had appeared on her forehead, and I could see one delectable drip sliding down her face.

"Why?" Bill kept pushing. His own apprehension was evident in his voice. "You shouldn't be there alone. You know he can't be trusted."

I prickled at his insinuation, the desire stronger than ever to stake a claim on what was once his.

Sookie turned back around and lowered her voice. "As I recall, Bill. You were the one who almost killed me after I saved your ass, so don't you go telling me who to trust."

At that point, I'd heard enough and lifted off the shelves, stalking her. I needed to feel her against me again.

Something on my desk had caught her interest, one slender finger attempting to wander across its entire surface. Her back was still to me as I came up close, with only inches between us. She shivered once.

"I've apologized for that already. Your blood is special and I was starving. I lost control." Sookie froze as I slid one finger up her back in the same manner with which she touched the flat, wooden surface, intentionally catching the bottom of her t-shirt and lifting it high enough to reveal some of her smooth, bronzed back.

She slapped my hand away and stepped around to the other side of the desk, but not before I caught sight of that little smirk of hers.

Meanwhile, Bill still prattled on over the phone, completely oblivious. "There is no level Eric won't sink to. You know what he's capable of."

"I really don't want to discuss this right now." She kept a careful eye on me as I followed her around the desk, not discouraged in the least when she stepped away for the second time. The little minx had to know how much I enjoyed chasing her.

"Is he with you right now?"

The question took her by surprise, and I took the opportunity to move next to her. As soon as I was close enough, I wrapped an arm around her waist and held her tight enough that she couldn't get away again, the breath leaving her chest in a shallow gasp.

Her voice was as level as it could have been while she was so high on lust. "No. He hasn't shown up yet."

She'd lied to Bill and I adored her for it, worshipping the perfect column that was her neck to show her just how much. The skin was as smooth as silk, warm and pulsing beneath my lips. Nothing could ever taste so sweet, so alive. When I licked her racing pulse, making sure to savor the flutter against my tongue, she gasped again.

This time, it was loud enough for Bill to being to suspect that his perfect Southern rose was being a little less than truthful. "Sookie, are you alright?"

"Fine," she squeaked. My fingers worked their way beneath her shirt and teased the skin just above the waistband of her shorts. Save for the shallow breathing and stampeding pulse, she was frozen in my arms. I lowered my face into her neck, unable to get enough of her tantalizing scent, made even spicier by her blatant arousal. Just in case I hadn't had enough of an effect on her yet, I released a gentle breath of air on that particularly sensitive spot behind her ear, earning me a low, greedy moan.

My job done for the time being, I released her, leaving her trembling and wanton in front of my desk while I sat down to go through some paperwork. Though I was fighting my own internal beast to keep from crushing her phone and taking her against the wall, I was careful to keep my expression calm and neutral.

She looked at me for a second, her skin flushed, her eyes shining, and her phone call forgotten. Watching her stand there so flustered made denying my own pleasure—temporarily, that is—worth it. Before the sun rose, I had every intention of knowing all the tiny details that were Sookie Stackhouse. Then and only then would I be willing to face my final end.

After a few more seconds of staring, she made her way over to the couch and collapsed on the far side that was tucked into the corner of the office, right next to the entrance. I continued to flip through old receipts and bills, not really looking at any of them, and pretending that I couldn't hear their conversation as clearly as if it were being broadcast over the radio.

"Bill?" she asked as soon as she got her breathing under control.

"What happened? Where did you go?"

"Sorry, uh . . . Ginger surprised me. She wanted my opinion on, um . . . waitressing techniques."

A four-year-old mini-human could have seen through the lie.

I tsk-tsked from where I sat, not bothering to look up from the stack of paper in front of me. But that didn't stop me from catching the glare she shot in my direction.

". . . are you sure he's not there?" Bill asked.

I stopped pretending I was busy and looked up.

"Yes . . . I mean, no," she stuttered. I chuckled. "I mean, yes I'm still alone."

The fact that she was choosing to have this conversation with Bill in my office while I was present brought a triumphant roar from the beast. She'd had every opportunity to leave—she still did. The door was unlocked; all she had to do was open it and walk out. But she wouldn't because she wanted to be with me.

Not Compton.

I wondered whether she'd figured out just how far Bill had gone to secure her affections, but based on the relative calm of their current conversation, that little revelation probably had not come about . . . yet.

"I can tell you're lying to me."

"Well that's your issue," she said going on the defensive.

I got up from behind the desk and made my way over to the couch, keeping a little more than a full cushion between us. I wanted this to be slow; she would be begging for it by the time I was done with her.

"Why didn't you listen to me? I asked you to stay at your brother's until I came back."

My eyes rolled back into my head, as I leaned back and stretched my arm out along the back of the couch. Bill was acting even more needy than I remembered. It was to the point where I was tempted to join their conversation to let him know how I felt.

"Bill," Sookie sighed, clearly exasperated and still horny. Somehow, my fingers found themselves pinching a strand of her hair, rubbing it between my thumb and index finger—a perfect accident on my part, of course. She shifted a little closer to me, but didn't seem to realize it. "You don't own me. I can do what I want."

"Did you forget that a three thousand year old vampire is after Eric for revenge?"

"Did you forget that you're not my father?" she shot right back.

Poor, Daddy Compton had been brushed off again.

Gradually, my hand that was lost in her hair made it its way to her shoulder and behind her neck, massaging as it went. She was buried too far in her argument with Compton to notice that her head had dropped forward to give me better access. I inched closer so that my other hand could partake.

Sookie continued to respond to my touches as I moved closer still. When my hand moved from her shoulder to her knee, she gave me a sharp look, finally realizing what I was up to. I only smirked and brushed her hair back behind her shoulder as my thumb caressed the inside of her leg.

She gasped a little and tried to push me off, but I was having none of that.

"Sookie, I don't want to argue anymore. I'm coming to Fangtasia."

"No, Bill." She sat up straight, just out of arm's reach. I wasted no time before leaning forward and pulling her back to the couch, close enough now to suck the earlobe between my teeth that wasn't covered by that god-awful phone. She moaned into the receiver before catching herself and slapping a hand over her mouth.

"What's going on there?" he snapped.

My hand crept further up her leg, her eyes watching its approach like a snake waiting for the perfect moment to strike. "Nothing, I banged my knee."

"I don't believe you."

I felt her hand clamp down on my wrist as I continued to assault her neck and ear with my tongue, but there was no attempt to push me away. Still, I forced my hand to freeze, determined to draw out her anticipation for as long as possible.

"Mhmm," was her only response. Finally, she was starting to let go and give herself over to the sensations.

As soon as she released me, my hand continued its journey north, sliding all the way up her thigh, over the denim, and back beneath her t-shirt. Her skin was hot, almost scalding, against my cooler palm, and the temperature had only begun to rise. I stroked the skin there lightly with my fingernails before slipping my hand higher up her delightful body. Another squeaky moan parted her swollen lips and her back arched off the couch when I had yet to do so much as graze a nipple. She was mine.

"I'm leaving now," Bill said when Sookie moaned again.

"Mm, don't," she gasped. She might have been speaking to either one of us, but judging by the way her body was reacting to my touch, if she were speaking to me, it was nothing more than a last-ditch effort at morality. I'd learned a lot after observing Ms. Stackhouse for so long, and she was nothing if not resolved to doing the "right thing." All I had to do was double my efforts, which I did as I turned her face to mine and kissed her as deeply and as softly as I knew how, bringing those walls crashing down.

Apparently, Bill hadn't been paying as much attention these past few months as I had; his response couldn't have been more poorly designed.

"You're mine. Do not forget that. I will be there shortly."

After those choice words, I had to back off a little, bringing my hands back to more respectable regions of her body to give her rage some room to come though. I very much wanted to watch her reaction to Compton's idiotic remark. There were so many drastic emotions coursing through her tiny body that she was nothing more than a ticking bomb, and Bill, tactical genius that he was, just lit the fuse.

As soon as she pieced his words together through her hazy desire, she sat up and adjusted her t-shirt. With her hair so disheveled and her mouth set in such a grim, straight line, she looked more like an angry witch than the feisty fairy I knew her to be.

Her fingers were a steel trap around the phone and her voice was dangerously level as she spoke.

"You listen her, Bill Compton. I've told you a thousand times that I belong to no one, especially you after all the shit you pulled." She lifted off the couch and began to pace the span of my office. The couch still radiated heat from where she'd been sitting. "I told you before. I needed to talk to Eric about some private business that I don't want you around for, so just fuck off already!"

"Sookie, please—"

Neither of us got to hear the extent of his pathetic pleas for forgiveness because she'd slammed her phone shut hard enough to crack the front screen. Money well spent, in my opinion.

I watched from my position on the couch as she continued to pace the small room like a caged animal, giving her anger some time to run its course. Her face was flushed an attractive shade of pink that disappeared beneath the collar of her shirt. I was certain that her entire body carried that same hue and planned on seeing for myself whether or not I was right.

Minutes later, she seemed to remember that she wasn't alone. Her gaze fell on me for less than a second before she turned and walked briskly to the door, her stride strong and purposeful. I was just about to get up and prevent her from leaving, when she turned the deadbolt above the doorknob.

My eyes lifted in surprise, but I said nothing.

"You know he's going to show up here anyway," she said.

"Yes," I agreed, then immediately dug my own phone out of my pocket and texted Pam that I was not to be disturbed for the rest of the night. She would have no trouble detaining Compton if he did indeed show up even though he was a few decades older. What she lacked in age, she made up for in ingenuity.

With the door locked and her phone now broken, Sookie stopped pacing and came to stand before me, her arms crossed over her chest. "Why shouldn't I trust him?"

I leaned forward, placing my elbows on my knees as I did so. This wasn't something I wanted to get into. Her reaction would be nothing short of devastation, and I found myself wanting to spare her that pain. For now, at least. Ideally, she would tire of Bill without having to learn the truth, but that was unlikely. With him constantly feeding her his blood, it was close to impossible to separate them for good. Even without the effects of his blood, it would be difficult. Her loyalty and stubborn nature were far too strong to let her simply walk away from someone she cared about. The only thing I could do was to try to guide her to the truth and hope for the best. Knowing her, she probably wouldn't believe me if I told her outright anyway.

I stood and stepped toward her, close enough that she had to look almost straight up to meet my gaze. "Because I'm asking you to trust me instead. He doesn't have your best interests at heart."

"Oh, and you do?"

I reached out to stroke her fiery cheek, but she turned her head away from my touch. Undeterred, I used my other hand to guide her gaze back to mine and steadied it there. "I know it may seem confusing to you, but I had no intention of allowing Russell to keep you. You're much too . . . intriguing for me to give you up just yet."

Flickers of confusion and concern rippled through the bond as she gaze softened slightly.

"Is he really after you?"

"I destroyed the one thing he'd loved for the last seven hundred years. What do you think?"

"Well, what are you going to do about it?" She looked up at me, her eyes ripping through mine as she waited for reassurance. She wanted me to tell her that I had a plan, that I would handle the situation, but none of that was the case. My end was on the horizon. I saw it and I accepted it as just another fact of life; logic and odds had spoken. But she wouldn't see it that way.

"Answer me!"

Unshed tears shimmered in her eyes that I had no desire to see fall, so I did the only thing I could think of. I kissed her again; except this time, she didn't fight it. Instead, she threw her arms around my neck and responded with a passion I'd rarely encountered in a thousand years.

Her desire swept back through her body a second later, heating the air around us in a cloud of lust. My fangs had run out once again, and my own arousal strained against the button of my jeans. I wanted her more than I could remember ever wanting something before. If she asked me to, I'd beg. I'd plead as desperately as Bill had over the phone if that was what she wanted.

I couldn't let her go.

Almost a minute later, I broke away to give her time to breathe, but her fingers immediately wound around the cotton straps of my tank top and held me close.

"Don't stop," she breathed against my lips.

Her breath tasted like the tart aromas of citrus and sugar.

I had no intention of stopping at this point and quickly lifted her around the waist while she locked her legs behind my back. I was beyond intoxicated by her taste and smell and touch, but we still managed to end up back on the couch, her two legs on either side of mine.

Once we were situated, my hands roamed freely, mapping every curve of her body, the smooth taper of her waist, the swells of her hips and breasts, and the graceful extensions that were her arms and legs. She moaned and writhed in perfect rhythm with each touch, simultaneously driving me insane and keeping me grounded in reality.

Each time I found a particularly sensitive spot, her fingers would clench, pinching my skin and creating ten tiny pinpricks of pain that only made me harder. I was aching. Release called to me, beckoning from just beyond my reach. I growled and rolled over so that Sookie was lying across the length of the couch with me braced above her.

Her t-shirt had long overstayed its welcome, and she didn't fight me as I pulled it over her head, tossing it in the far corner of the room. I paused a moment to take in the shining, tan skin that contained such vehement life. Actually seeing the curves I'd just memorized was an entirely different experience—one that I intended to savor.

But Sookie had other plans, only giving me a second or two to study her absolute perfection before pulling me down into another kiss. My hand settled over her left breast that was still sheathed within her cotton bra, counting the frantic heartbeats. Each time I felt her chest shaking with the gasping, shallow breaths of her pleasure, a thrill raced through me.

For the first time in centuries, sex was more than a hobby or a means to an end. It was exciting again. Only with Sookie.

My fingers made quick work of the bra clasp, finally releasing those two mounds I'd dreamt about since I first laid eyes on her. Their rosy peaks were pulled tight, straining for attention that I was more than happy to give.

She cried out the first time my fingers grazed over the sensitive flesh. Her fingers clutched my hair and pulled it; the resulting pressure was nothing but delightful. When I lowered my mouth to taste those glorious pebbles of skin, her back arched off the cushions and her arms pressed me even further into her chest. I made sure to pay both breasts equal attention, grazing the supple skin with my fangs, and not above adding the occasional light twist and pinch.

Eventually I had to move lower, slipping onto the floor so I could kneel before her. One of her feet was pressed flat on the floor while the other rested atop the back of the couch, giving me a tremendous view as I went to work on those little shorts. Our eyes met as I slid the button out of its lip and she raised her hips without me asking to slide the worn denim and blue cotton panties down her legs, which had come together for the moment to allow me to do so.

I held her gaze as I lowered my face toward her. The source of her arousal, hotter than it had ever been, than it ever would be. She wanted this. I could see it in her eyes and feel it in her heartbeat. She was mine.

Her eyes fluttered but managed to not close as I first tasted her, one long sweeping stroke up her center. Her taste reminded me of the honey I had loved so much from my human days. Neither of us looked away from each other as I continued to lick, and nibble, and stroke her into oblivion. With every caress, little moans passed through her mouth between gasping breaths. It took her less than five minutes to fall over the edge.

Her entire body contracted and released around me with her fingers still in my hair and her one leg over my shoulder. Heaven itself couldn't have been more marvelous.

After I brought her to another climax or two, I stood and removed my tank top, giving her a few extra seconds to take in my own body. I knew it aroused her. Every time she saw me, her heart would beat just a little faster and her temperature would rise a little higher. She gulped as my jeans pooled around my feet, revealing my size, but there was a primal hunger lingering in my eyes that overshadowed my girth.

Oh, yes, she most definitely wanted this.

As I lowered myself over her, her body welcomed mine, with her arms and legs spreading to accommodate me. The minute I felt her warmth beneath me, I kissed her deeply, truly and entered her in one smooth stroke.

Though she'd managed to maintain eye contact while I explored below her waist, the instant I slid between her legs, her eyes rolled back into her head and a deep, guttural moan vibrated throughout her entire body. She was flawless, gripping me in her solid warmth in all the right ways. The instant I breeched her entrance, I knew that once would never be enough, not with her. I wanted—needed—this feeling again.

She was mine.

Each thrust was long and deep, claiming her. I wasn't her first, and if things with Russell turned out then I expected, then I was most likely not going to be her last. But I would be her best. If nothing else, I would be the one to give her the greatest pleasure, take her to the heights that she deserved.

She moaned and writhed beneath me, never failing to meet each of my thrusts with one of her own. Her arms were wrapped around mine, clinging to my back, nails dragging across skin, pressing me onward. All too soon, the pressure began to build low in my gut, the coil already pulled tight.

I doubled the pace and Sookie doubled the volume, practically screaming my name as I let loose and pounded into her. After only seconds at this pace, the pressure grew even tighter, so tight that I had to clench my teeth with the effort to keep from falling apart before she did one last time.

Unable to hold back anymore, I reached beneath her and pulled her into my chest as I lost control, my orgasm coming at me with all the inevitability of an avalanche. I couldn't stop myself from piercing her neck, her gushing blood begging for me to taste. The warm flood that raced into my mouth was filled with her emotions and her fire. Nothing and no one in my thousand years could have ever hoped to compare. With one bite, I was ruined for everyone that wasn't Sookie.

As I bit down, she shrieked and an explosion went off between us. We came at the same time, the orgasm a giant ball of white light that sent scorching pleasure streaking through our veins. Almost instantly, her entire body was covered in tiny goosebumps as she trembled beneath me.

She was it. There could be no one else. Even now, more sated than I'd been in years, I wanted her, craved to be buried in her moist heat.

Though I didn't breathe, I still needed a moment to collect myself. Sookie's eyes were still closed as she drifted back into reality. With one hand, I reached down and smoothed some of the matted hair back into place before I kissed her, sending another wave of pins and needles sweeping down my spine.

We stayed like that for a few more minutes, just kissing and touching, but eventually, I had to sit up, making sure to pull Sookie into my side as I did so. Folded over the back of the couch was an old afghan, which I grabbed and draped across her shoulders before she had the chance to shiver.

"You never answered my question," she said once her heart rate had returned to a normal level. I could feel her total relaxation in the bond and was proud that I was the one to give it to her. Although who knew how long it would last if this was the pillowtalk topic she chose.

"I know."

"So . . ." she pressed once it was clear that I had no intention of elaborating. "What are you going to do about Russell?"

"You have nothing to worry about. I will make sure that he can't get to you." I knew that wasn't what she meant, but I didn't want to face the reality just yet. It hurt that I couldn't be with Sookie—ever again, most likely—it hurt a lot more than I thought it could. I just wanted a few more minutes of this peace before I had to return to the constant plotting and politicking waiting for me on the other side of the door.

But of course, Sookie would not fall for any attempt at evasion.

"But what about you? You're going to be okay, right?"

I kept my voice as level as possible. "Not likely, no."

She didn't say anything for a few seconds as she processed the information. Rather than whining as I might have expected, I felt her body tense against mine along with a growing prickle of anger through the bond. "So you're just going to give up?"

Though she'd never been one to listen to logic or reason, I tried anyway. "He's more than three times my age and has limitless resources. It's inevitable."

"So?"

"So . . . all of my affairs are in order. Everything will be taken care of." Then I added, "Even you."

But apparently that wasn't what she wanted to hear. The anger she'd been holding at bay broke free and washed over me like sunlight. "So was that what all this was about? What am I to you? Just some item on your bucket list? Something you can check off and move on from!"

I had no idea what a bucket list was, but that wasn't my concern at the moment. She was being irrational. "You are much more valuable to me than an item on a list," I admitted, hoping she would somehow realize the truth of the situation. "After tonight, I'm quite certain that I'd never be able to give you up if I had a choice."

She refused to take no for an answer. "So then you need to figure it out. There has to be a way you can beat him."

"Believe me, I've tried. There's nothing. He's beyond ancient and has nothing left to lose. He's got every advantage."

She shook her head and sat up a little to face me. "No he doesn't. Not every advantage."

"What are you talking about?"

"Me," she said. "He doesn't have me."

The one thing I was not willing to lose. Now it was my turn to shake my head. "No."

"What do you mean 'no'?" she asked. "I want to do this!"

"I'm not going to risk losing you like that."

But she wasn't backing down. "It's my decision."

"No."

"Yes," she insisted. "Let me help you."

My mind raced with all the ways she could get herself killed trying to help me. I pictured Russell draining her, or werewolves dismembering her. Worst of all, I saw him turning her, smothering her light for good. I couldn't risk that happening.

She needed to be protected. No one got into trouble like Sookie Stackhouse. If vampires weren't trying to coax her into their dens, then werewolves, or even humans, were after her. Her soft, naïve nature made it all too easy for her to be lured in under the guise of helping another. That kindness would get her killed.

When I was gone who would keep her safe? Compton? He was too weak and foolish. The shifter? He was too soft and let emotions cloud his judgment. I couldn't trust anyone else to protect her. The knowledge made my stomach turn. Now that the supe community knew about her, it would only be a matter of time before someone else tried to bend her to their will. But she was strong and brittle; she would break before giving into someone else, and that was something I could not allow to happen.

I looked at Sookie, a plan piecing itself together in my mind. There was only one way I could see that we could escape Russell's clutches. But I couldn't tell her. The king might have been crazy, but he was equally cunning. He would have no trouble seeing through a performance, no matter how genuine.

No. For this to work, Sookie had to hate me. Through and through. It was the only way to keep her safe.

Without another word, I stood and threw Sookie over my shoulder, making sure that the blanket remained wrapped around her.

"Eric, what are you doing?" she yelled. She tried to kick and squirm, but her struggles were useless against my grip. "Put me down!"

I ignored her protests and flung open the office door, stepping into the main room. She was crying now from anger, a sound that unnerved me more than I would ever admit, but I continued down the back hallway, heading for the last door on the right.

"Eric, stop! Don't do this," she begged me, but still, I said nothing.

When I opened the door to the basement, she kicked harder and her cries became those of fear. "I hate you, I can't believe I trusted you!"

Mission accomplished.

She didn't say anything after that.

The moment I set her down and reached for her collar, she scrambled, trying to get away from me, but I had no trouble holding her in place until I locked the cold iron in place around her neck. Once she was secured, I wrapped the blanket tighter around her shoulders then left her there, sealing her inside the dank chamber. When I returned to my office I, instructed Pam to bring Sookie warmer clothes and a great deal of red meat—anything that was rich in iron.

She was going to need her strength.

And that, my dears, was all she wrote.

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