Lydia stood hidden behind the pine tree outside Fangtasia in Shreveport for an hour watching people go into the bar, as well as those that walked out. She was hoping to catch a glimpse of owner, but all she saw were punked-out humans and freaky-dressed vampires. Watching the female at the entrance door checking IDs, Lydia quickly deducing she was a vampire, appearing to have some type of authority there.

After driving the sixteen hours from Raleigh, North Carolina, she was hungry and extremely tired. Other than food and sleep, she just wanted to get it over with, although it was going to be more difficult than she thought it would be. She didn't want to have to go inside. The fewer vampires she ran into, the better.

Gathering all the courage she could muster, walking on her Jello legs, she approached the entrance, waiting her turn. Finally standing before the bouncer, Lydia handed her her driver's license. Avoiding her eyes, staring no higher than her collarbone, she said, "I need to speak with the owner of this bar, please."

"You like what you see?" the vampire purred. Lydia didn't reply. Handing her the card back, she asked, her voice more severe, "What makes you think I'd allow that?"

"Because it's of a dire matter," Lydia answered.

"For the owner or for you?" she asked, taking a step closer.

Lydia's eyes didn't move, nor did she back off. "None of your business."

"Hey! Come on!" someone hollered from behind me. "What's the hold up?"

"You by your neck if you don't pipe down, human!" the bouncer barked back before turning back to Lydia. "Little girl, it is my business when it comes to my maker." Her tone was then a snarl.

"I've asked nicely. Please tell him I am looking for Magnus Erickkson."

"Who?"

"The owner, you know, your maker." Lydia was about to cross dangerous territory.

The vampire snickered. "Watch your sarcasm with me. And do you really think …" the vampire stepped even closer to Lydia, forcing her to close her eyes, "… that you can avoid my eyes so as not to glamour you to find the truth?"

"I'm doing a pretty good job, aren't I?" Lydia had officially crossed the line, and she kept her eyes closed tighter.

"Excuse me, what seems to be the problem here, Pam?" said a voice suddenly.

From the instant Eric had seen her when he landed from flight in front of the bar he knew who she was. There was no denying it the closer he approached from behind her. The tall, slender woman with curvy hips and nice, full breasts, her chestnut, wavy hair cascading over her shoulders and down to the middle of her back … yes, he knew her. She was a splitting image of her 5th great-grandmother. And he wondered what exactly she needed from him.

"This human is looking for a Magnus Erickkson."

"Reeeely?" Eric slurred intentionally. "And what does she want with this Magnus?"

"Don't know, and do not rightly give a rat's ass."

"Is she blind?" he snickered.

"No. She thinks if she doesn't look at us we will not glamour her."

Eric laughed then brought his lips just inches from Lydia's ear. "If I want to glamour you I will do so, and you will be none the wiser." He stepped back. "Who are you?"

"My name … I'm Lydia," she replied, suddenly terrified and afraid she'd made the wrong decision. With her eyes closed as long as they had been, she was becoming slightly lightheaded from fatigue.

"Come with me," he said.

"And who might you be?" she asked.

"I might be Eric Northman, or I might be the owner of this bar, or I might be able to lead you to this Magnus person."

Lydia's eyes being closed, she had no way to confirm it was indeed the one she'd come for. She put her head down as far as she could and slowly opened her eyes, making sure to keep them glued on her own two feet. Many sets of legs passed her, as it seemed Pam was letting people into the bar.

Lydia was 5'9," seven inches shorter than the male, and from her peripheral vision she could only see that he had dark blonde hair. It wasn't enough to convince her of a thing. "You are Eric Northman, the owner?"

"I am."

"Prove it."

"Your family name is Caldwell, is it not?"

Her heart skipped a beat. "Yes." It was enough to convince her. "May I talk with you, privately, please?"

"Inside."

"No, out here, in public."

"You do not trust me?"

She hesitated. "You, yes, but …"

"You trust no one else," he finished.

"Yes."

"You are wise, Lydia Caldwell."

In the blink of an eye, Eric had made eye contact with Lydia, and she could not look away. His dark blonde hair, his captivating green eyes, his cleft chin – it was the man that could take her to Magnus.

"Do not be frightened. I will not glamour you," Eric whispered.

Lydia's shoulders remained tense, though her face seemed to relax. "Inside, then?"

"This way, Lydia. Pam, stay." She shot him a nasty look before he put his hand on the small of Lydia's back and led her to a secluded booth in the corner, sitting down across from her. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No, thank you," she replied, her eyes now locked on his chin. Eric found it amusing she wouldn't look into his eyes.

Her stomach gurgled. "Are you hungry?"

She frowned. "No. Look, I just need—"

"Do not lie to me. I heard your stomach growl. I'll repeat myself. Would you like something to eat?"

She hesitated before she answered, "Sure. I'd like a steak, medium rare…"

"A woman after my own heart," Eric snarked.

"… Baked potato with sour cream and butter on the side, garden salad, no onions, with Raspberry Vinaigrette, and two rolls."

"Anything for dessert?" he asked seriously.

"Sure. Brasa Brazilian has the best roasted pineapple sprinkled with cinnamon."

"Brasa Brazilian?"

"It's a steakhouse in Raleigh. Pretty expensive, too. Make sure you take enough cash." Lydia had not only crossed the line, she dove right over it and kept on going. Sleep, she desperately needed sleep.

He narrowed his eyes at her then he stood. "I will have Pam stay with you. No harm will come to you. I give you my solemn vow."

Lydia was about to protest when Eric disappeared in front of her eyes and Pam sat down in his place. "You are messing with fire," Pam spat.

Lydia promptly locked her eyes to the coaster on the table. "And you are messing with a wooden stake." That didn't even make sense to Lydia. Sleep wasn't what she needed. She might as well go and kill herself before Pam did the job for her. "Where did he go?"

"No idea. What do you want with my maker?"

"That's between me and him." Lydia forced back a yawn. Despite her last stupid comment she knew she shouldn't show any vulnerability.

The two sat in silence for almost ten minutes, and the longer Lydia sat, the harder it was for her to keep her eyes open. Her head was becoming heavier and heavier each passing moment, regardless of her heart pounding with nerves.

Pam's attention was drawn behind the bar, and when Lydia turned to look, she saw nothing but a blur of moment. The blur was next at the booth, and Eric placed a plate with the steak and potato, two small dip cups with the sour cream and butter, a bread plate with the rolls, a bowl of salad with dressing and a dessert plate with the roasted pineapple. Lydia stared dumbstruck at the food.

"Hell, you aren't going to eat that disgusting—"

"Pam, leave us," Eric interrupted. She did in a huff, and Eric sat down across the table. "I would have been here five minutes earlier, but I had to go back for the rolls." Lydia's eyes widened. "Eat."

"I … how did you …"

"Don't ask. Now eat. When you are done, you will tell me what you want of Magnus."