A/N: Quick little hello and then I'll shut up, I promise. This is set around the beginning of season 2, more or less. I don't really know where I'm going with this but if people like it I'll continue. Opinions welcome! I like criticism!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Bar OC's. Obviously.

Prologue.

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Lily was bored.

So bored she had robbed the dishwasher of its job and taken to hand washing a stack of used glasses she had cleared up earlier from an empty table. She could hear the hum of chatter from the bar beyond this cluttered, broken down kitchen, the usual sounds that came with Friday nights at Wicked. Her night had been uneventful. Sometimes, when it was busy, she was allowed to go behind the bar and help clear glasses and take orders, the pain of not quite being eighteen forbid her from actually serving alcohol to patrons. She longed for something, anything at all, to happen tonight. And half a heartbeat later, her prayer was answered.

"Lil," Danny, the oh so beautiful bartender that had always treated her like a little sister, poked his head around the kitchen door, "there's someone here to see you." He said, pausing like there was something more he felt he should add. "I think he's a...client, of yours."

Lily frowned. She was certain she didn't have any appointments tonight, she had checked numerous times before taking to dirty dishwater. Which only left her with a sharp and sudden sense of anxiousness, and urged herself to approach the situation with caution.

She gave Danny a nod, to which he then retreated back to his post behind the bar. Lily dried her hands on a towel sitting close by, and asked herself who this person was that had heard of her and what she did here. To the people she kept appointments with, it was an unspoken rule that what she did for them here remained classified. Not because what she was doing was something so immorally wrong and shameful, but simply because most people wouldn't understand, particularly with the rumours circulating about her being some kind of psychic. Lily was not a psychic. She was not a Satanist. And regardless of what her neighbours thought of her, neither was Steph, the woman who had raised Lily and her older sister Gwen as if they were her own flesh and blood, and the owner of this very bar.

People liked to gossip, and they rarely cared whether or not there were truth to their words. But rumours like that had the potential to do quite an enormous amount of damage to the life she and Steph had strained to keep within balance. Mostly, because some of those rumours were utterly true.

When she peered out into the bar and scanned the crowd from a safe distance, she found that there was one person that stood out so undeniably from the rest. A man was sitting at the bar with his hands interlaced, dressed in a formal grey suit. Prada, current season. Exquisite. His hair a shock of blond, immaculately neat. What on earth would a man so elegantly dressed, who obviously had the wealth and success to get what he wants, be doing in a bar in New Orleans?

Without warning, his head snapped up and met her prying gaze. Lily stumbled back to the kitchen where she couldn't be seen, but swore she had seen a grin play on his lips, as if he had known he was being watched. Clapping a hand to her head in embarrassment, she ordered herself to get it together, hold her head up high and go out there to meet him, because he had already seen her and she had already made the impression that she was some timid, skittish, teenage girl—which she certainly didn't considered herself.

She made her way behind the bar, past Danny who was whispering something to a girl on the other side of the counter that made her laugh and hit his chest playfully. The well dressed man, whose posture was noticeably better than most, paid no attention to her until she was standing right in front of him, her fingertips splayed lightly on the bar counter.

"Can I help you?" she asked with as much good grace as she used on customers every other night.

"I'm waiting for someone." His voice was rich with charm. Lily raised her brow, amused. He was waiting for her, she already knew that. There was something about him that was so polished and full of charm, that it seemed almost...inhuman.

"Well, can I get you anything while you wait?" She decided to play along with this little game.

He thought about that for a moment. "Yes, a Tru Blood."

Lily froze, without really meaning to, but quickly regained control of herself. As a child she was taught to have an open mind about the unknown. From an early age she had known that the world wasn't all rainbows and glitter and tea, just as much as it wasn't all human. It had never really bothered her to learn of vampire's existence. But it did rattle her to find that one had so purposely sought her out. She could practically hear Steph's voice in her ear: "Keep your guard up. Don't show fear and don't agree to anything that could get you into trouble." So that's exactly what she tried to do.

"We've only got O positive."

"O positive it is." The man replied, fixing a steady gaze on her. She was quick to take a bottle from the shelf and pour the crimson liquid into a martini glass. She set the glass and what remained of the bottle on the counter in front of him, but he didn't seem to take much interest. He was watching her instead. She gathered up the cash that was already on the counter waiting for her. His lips twitched at one end like there was something he wanted to say, and she was itching to ask what, but something told her that he would only relish in that.

"This person that you're waiting for," Lily asked after a while, noticing he had pressed his fingers to the stem of his glass but not once brought it to his lips, "are they expecting you?"

"No," he leaned in closer and spoke the words quietly, "but I suspect that they already know I'm here. This person, I was told she's a fortune-teller of sorts, but I'm not entirely convinced that's the case. I'm told she runs secret appointments in the back of a run-down bar, spends her time reading tarot cards and using spirit boards. Her name is Lily Ryder. And she's standing right before me."

She could feel her pulse begin to race involuntarily. A sudden surge of anger washed over her because someone must have been talking, spilling secrets. How else would a stranger know to find her here and even request her by name? Regardless, lying seemed like the best way to go now, because as a child, Lily had also been taught that there were people out there who wouldn't think twice about taking advantage if they knew the things she could do, vampires even more so.

There was a reason why her client list was a very short, very private, list. She had worked very hard to ensure she could trust those people enough to keep quiet. Tarot cards and tea leaf reading by candlelight was hardly enough to have the town crying witch, but the attention was still unwanted, especially that of a vampire's.

"You don't really believe in all of that, do you? It's just another scam." She tried to laugh it off, like whoever had told him these things about her must have been joking with him.

"Be that as it may, Miss Ryder, but I happen to know the full extent of your potential."

"And what would that be?" she asked with narrowed eyes.

His lips spread into a smirk as he continued in that hushed tone. "That you're a witch." He must have seen her eyes grow wide in alarm because his smirk only grew wider. That was a secret she never dared say out loud.

In a final attempt to protect herself, she lied, again. "Look, I'll level with you." Lily leaned in closer, whispering. "The psychic stuff, it's all a load of crap."

"Is that so?" He reached inside his jacket discreetly, revealing a wad of plentiful green dollar bills. "I've heard that there are certain allowances." His tone was unnervingly alluring.

She let her eyes rest on the money for just a second, tempted. It was true, her appointments were available for the right amount, but the wad inside his jacket was more than she had ever seen all at once. Money like that could do a lot for her, for her family. Bills were piling up and solutions had yet to reveal themselves. But still, making a deal with a vampire went against her every instinct.

"Sorry. There's nothing I can do for you." She tried to smile like it wasn't bothering her, biting the inside of her cheek as she pretended to be interested in the pattern of a dish cloth. He had yet to move from his seat. When he spoke again, Lily scrubbed aimlessly at a nonexistent stain on the counter.

"I'm a businessman, Miss Ryder, and I have a proposition for you. I have no interest in making an appointment to stare into a crystal ball, but your services would be a great help to me. A friend of mine has gone missing, taken by people who intend to cause grievous harm." Her shining hazel eyes glanced up at that. There was a note of urgency in his voice as he spoke about his friend, faint but recognisable. Nobody had ever asked for her help before, not in this manner at least. He continued, noting that he had gained her attention, "My resources can only go so far and I believe that you have it within your power to find him. You could prevent a terrible amount of bloodshed."

She didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say. The tale of a lost friend had tugged on her heart strings but she was sure that that was what he had intended.

"Your resources?" she began, "What, do you have a basement full of flying monkeys or something?" She studied his expression for a moment, saw the amusement flicker across his features, like she had reminded him of something. She didn't want to know what was lying in wait in his basement.

"Of course, you would be compensated for your time." His tone was calm again, as if they were discussing the weather.

She weighed up her options. She had the opportunity to help someone in dire need and gain an exorbitant amount of money while doing it. On the other hand, she might die.

But what was it that she had been thinking to herself all day long? She had begged for something interesting to happen, longed for any opportunity to present itself. And it would seem that this was it. In a moment of sheer madness, before she could convince herself to do otherwise, she started laying out her conditions.

"I'll need you to guarantee my safety, that nobody will find out. And when this is all over, nobody else comes here looking for favours." Lily whispered, her palms pressed to the bar counter, looking him dead in the eye.

"You have my word." He was quick to respond, but evidently pleased with himself. There was something eerie about his smirk now. He was getting up to leave when Lily thought to ask something.

"Wait!" she called, "I don't even have your name. How am I supposed to contact you?"

He paused, lips half twitching, "My name is Eric Northman, and don't fret, Lily Ryder, I will find you when the time comes."

He made it about two steps before his eyes travelled to a space across the bar. "You have a shadow." He said without even looking at her.

Lily leaned over the counter to follow his gaze. There was a dark haired girl in a black dress standing by the wall, staring at them both. No, I have a sister. Lily wanted to say, but didn't. Although he already knew so much about her, he probably already knew she had a sister. Eric was half way out the door when she looked back. His glass of Tru Blood remained untouched.

Soon after Eric left, the bar was quiet enough for Lily to leave. The sink of dirty dishwater was her only task tonight anyway. She headed upstairs to the small apartment above the bar, where she, her sister and Steph lived.

It was the kind of place that had been the height of elegance thirty odd years ago but had gone downhill since then. Lily had tried to make it beautiful after filling it with green plants. Her stomach was beginning to rumble and she headed for the kitchen. The light flickered on and off and on again for a while after she flipped the switch but it always did that, the wiring in this old place needed attention. But that would cost money, a lot more than she had at the moment. Lily was rummaging the scarce cupboards for some kind of salty, processed food when a voice called out from behind her.

" I saw you." It was Gwen, her sister, swinging around the doorframe, her eyes glossy. She was high on something. Weed, cocaine, her own power? Lily wasn't in the mood to guess.

"You saw what?"

"You," she replied in a lull, "and a vampire. Talking."

"Exactly, talking. I have to talk to the customers."

Gwen came closer, looked her dead in the eyes, suddenly very stern. "You and I both know that vampires don't just talk to witches. He wants something from you." Before she could rant on any further, Lily pushed passed her into the hallway, heading for her bedroom on an empty stomach. She was hardly in any position to be handing out advice. Lily had been the one to take care of her for years.

"Tut tut tut. Consequences, baby sister." Gwen swung her finger back and forth, "There are always consequences." She was almost singing. Whatever was flowing through her bloodstream was sending her up and down, and for a moment, Lily envied her that. How easy it must be to walk through life so numb to the rest of the world.

She was swinging open her bedroom door when she heard her sister's voice again. "Lily?" Gwen called out.

She turned her head, tired, and in no mood for these games tonight. "What?" Lily's voice had grown weary.

"Be careful."