"Eric, we need to get out of here." He arches an eyebrow, looking me over slowly.
"Do we?" His tone suggests something sexual, and I roll my eyes, pointing to the man in the crowd.
"He's an undercover cop, and he just called for backup. There's a vampire feeding off a stupid human in the bathroom." I stand, hoping he gets the idea now that I've been so blunt, and thankfully he also rises.
"What are you?" He demands, grabbing my arm, and I look down at where he's grabbed me before meeting his eye.
"Is this really the time?" Frowning, he looks towards the front door then back at me.
"This way then." Pulling me into his side, he steers me to a door hidden at the back of the stage, and we end up in the closed off alley next to the club. A fire red sports car is sitting there, and he deposits me in the passenger seat before taking the wheel.
"Where are we going?" I ask as he maneuvers out to the back of the club, blue and red lights visible over the building from the other side as the police enter the club.
"My house." His simple answer makes me pause for a second, and I pull my phone from my pocket, sending a quick text before turning it off. "What did you just do?"
"I told someone that I was being kidnapped." He looks at me seriously, almost angry, and I laugh. "I'm kidding. I just told my friends I wouldn't be home until tomorrow."
"You're hilarious." He mutters, before glancing my way heatedly. "Why do you assume you are staying in my house?"
"Because you are driving very fast, and we are already a long way from the bar. I do not plan on walking back to my car if you make me mad, so I'm just going to claim one of your guest rooms to sleep in for the night before getting my car tomorrow."
"How do you know I have a guest room?" I chuckle, looking at him with a grin.
"I'm sorry, but when someone has as big an ego as yours, I usually assume they have a large house to match. This fancy car just supports my theory." He looks unhappy for a second, focusing on the road, and I look at him seriously.
"So why are we going to your house? I can't imagine that you would want to take a complete stranger to your resting place." It looks as though he's surprised for a second, and then he grins.
"I would like to be able to question you when I know you can't just walk away." There's the faintest hint of a threat, and I scoff, leaning back in the seat and poking his shoulder.
"You have no idea what I can do." That seems to get his attention, and he is silent the rest of the ride, which is roughly another fifteen minutes.
We pull up to a single-story house with a large garage attached on one side, the closest stall door opening for him to park before we go inside. Showing me in through a large living room, he points out the kitchen, two guest rooms, a library, a dining room and a training room. There's an extra door across from the front door going outside, and when I point to it he grins slyly. "That's the elevator downstairs, to the underground level. My resting place is there, and now that I've showed you around, we can get down to business." I'm pushed against the wall of the living room suddenly, his arms like a cage to hold me in place. "What are you?"
"I'm an art student." He shakes his head, and I hear a click, his fangs suddenly bared.
"You know what I'm talking about." His tone is low and serious, which he seems to think is going to unsettle me.
"Do I?" Cocking my head, I realize my mistake as he looks down to my bared throat, and he is running his nose over my neck a second later.
"You smell sweet, like sunlight mixed with the honey I remember from my human days. What are you?"
"You don't have any guesses?" I instigate further, and he growls.
"I have my suspicions, but I want you to tell me."
"Why is that?" His annoyance is growing, I can tell.
He gets closer, pushing against me, and I gasp when he bites me with blunt teeth for a second before breathing into my ear. "Because I am being much, much nicer than I have to be, and I would hope you appreciate that."
"Hmm." I think about it for a second, making him growl a little louder when I twist my fingers in his hair. "You're no fun." I finally say and he smirks against me, leaning back to meet my eye.
"I am quite fun, should I wish to be, but you are withholding something I would like to know."
"So I tell you what you want to know, and then you'll be more fun?" I question, and he leers over me.
"Quite fun indeed. So, what are you?" His eyes bore into mine, and I sign, relenting.
"I am telepathic." He is still for a long moment before he's nudged my head aside, his fangs down and scraping against me as he takes a deep breath against my skin.
"I had a psychic once, it was quite fun."
"Would she agree?" There's no answer, and although I'm nervous, I know that I need to tell him the rest still. It had been quite annoying at the bar when I had wanted to tell him, and instead had caught the thoughts of the undercover cop. "Eric…"
"Hmm?" His lips part further, and the point of his fangs brush over me making me shiver when he answers.
"You still haven't asked where I get my telepathy." An annoyed and impatient sounds comes from him as he leans back and I stare at his fangs for a second before looking up at his oddly amused eyes.
"So then, where do you get your telepathy?" Once again he growls lightly, his fangs visible under his lip as he speaks, and I lean forward brazenly to kiss him. He responds instantly, his hand locking around the back of my head to hold me in place, and he pushes me against the wall forcefully. It's as though he senses when I need to breathe and releases me, moving to kiss down my chin to my neck. I relax against him as he holds me around my back, lifting me up to warp my legs around his waist.
"I'm a fairy." I whisper against him, and I barely catch myself as he completely drops me.
"Seriously, a fucking fairy?" He demands, stepping back and I frown as I gather myself.
"Yes, what is the problem? You were all excited a second ago." My observation doesn't seem to help his mood.
"Fae are tricksters, always with ulterior motives and a predictable tendency to kill without warning. Despite having exquisite blood, I do not usually associate with fae as they bring nothing but crazy and trouble." Spitting the words, he stands with a hostile posture before me.
I'm surprised by his words, as well as slightly hurt, and look at him wide eyed for a second before a sigh leaves my lips. "Very well then." Stepping around him slowly before giving him my back, I head towards the guest bedroom and open the door to step inside.
"What are you doing?" The shoulder on my hand stops me and I look at him briefly, trying not to show how much his words actually hurt.
"I am going to bed, since apparently being around you will only bring trouble. Don't worry, I will leave before you have to see me tomorrow night." He freezes and I pull away from his touch, closing the door and looking around. The room is decorated similarly to an upscale hotel room and the bathroom is nice blue marble with a large walk in shower and whirlpool tub. Relaxing into the tub a short time later, I keep the water running to fill it up as I make a call on my cellphone, setting the phone on the edge.
"Yes?" His answer makes me smile as it sounds the exact same as it always does.
"Well, you were right. He made an ass of himself with me. I quote 'Fae are tricksters, always with ulterior motives and a predictable tendency to kill without warning. Despite having exquisite blood, I do not usually associate with fae as they bring nothing but crazy and trouble' and now I am having a nice soak in his guest room bath."
"Of course he did that... let me know when he eats those words." Godric chuckles, ending the call, and I turn the water off to relax. Checking Eric's void, I find it some ways below my room and if I'm honest, it seems that he is pacing, but I put it out of my mind. Admiring the stone work in the space, I dry and dress quickly as soon as I've finished, turning all the lights off as I leave the bathroom. The bed in the bedroom is soft, lulling me to sleep quickly as soon as I lay down beneath the covers.
I get up the next day well rested and take my time snooping through his kitchen to find something to eat before getting ready and popping to stand next to my car. Getting in, it's a three-minute drive to a popular nearby shop, and I pick out several nice outfits with the help of the attendant. I'm sitting down at the café at the other end of the block when an unknown woman sits down in front of me, a critical look on her face.
"Can I help you?" I ask, unsure as I set down the glass I was drinking from.
"Last night, you left Fangtasia with Eric right before a raid happened. I sense that you are a supernatural of some sort, so I'm here to tell you that he is already claimed by Hallow, a local witch. She is very powerful."
Surprised, I do my best to look innocent. "Oh, I'm sorry. Eric didn't say anything. That's alright anyway, he's a jerk, so I'm probably not going to be seeing him if I can help it."
"Oh…" She obviously didn't expect things to go this way, and I try to read her, but she has a strange barrier around her whole body which makes her silent. Not pushing it, I smile at her, putting my shields firmly into place.
"So what's Hallow like? I'm not very familiar with the local supernatural crowd, so I might want to meet her."
"Well, she's our coven leader. She runs a local shop for herbs and things, so if you want to meet her, just look us up. We're the only place like it around." She stands, leaving quickly as something seems to be distracting her and I finish my meal before leaving as well.
The house is quiet when I get in, Lafayette probably already off to his shift at Merlotte's and Jason likely there getting something to eat since I wasn't here to cook for him. I lock the door, going up to my room, and end up studying for my next exam until I fall asleep with my head on my desk. It's late when I wake up, almost three in the morning, and I feel out with my telepathy. Laf is asleep, as is Jason, and I clean myself up before changing and going to bed. I only sleep a few more hours, waking just a bit before sun up, and I am fixing breakfast when there's a knock on the door. "I got it." I hear Jason call out as he comes downstairs, probably having woken up when he heard me getting pans out and he comes in the kitchen a minute later with a package. "Got your name on it, sis." He grins, sitting it on the table and grabbing a pair of scissors as I turn the stove off.
"What are you doing?" I ask, taking the scissors from him, and he chuckles as he goes to grab a plate. A beautiful vase is the first thing I see, and Lafayette comes in as I pull out four dozen red and white roses.
"Damn girl, who's sendin' you goods like that?"
Blushing slightly, I arrange them in the vase, adding water and some of the plant food as Jason sits down with his own food. The card with the flowers had said 'Perhaps you will give me the chance to change my views', and I had thrown it away before the others could see and start asking any questions. The last think I needed was my older brother and best friend getting the wrong idea of the guy I was supposedly meant to be with.
"I met someone, and I ended up sleeping in his guest room after he got us out of a tricky spot, which is where I was the other night. His name is Eric." Jason nods, his mouth full, and Lafayette sets down with the plate he made himself as well as one for me. Thanking him, I take my seat and admire the roses as I take a bite of eggs.
"He sure knows how to throw some money around." Laf comments, and I look at him questioningly. "That's a crystal vase, and if I 'member correctly, it's a Baccarat Celimene Majestic. My crazy ass momma used to go on nonstop about buying that sort of bullshit, its somthin' like thirty or forty thousand dollars. She was obsessed with 'em." I almost choke, and he laughs.
"You could always sell it." Jason says, and I think about that for a second before shaking my head and clearing my mouth.
"I'll just give something back to him." My solution seems to make them dubious, but they don't argue, finishing and thanking me for the meal before going off to do their morning rituals. I decide to go to my studio, a small office space I rent for cheap in an older building in Shreveport where I practice my painting and get myself together with an old set of clothes before teleporting there. It's a forty-foot by twenty-foot room which had white walls when I had first rented it, and with permission from the landlord I had painted large colorful murals on each surface. Jason had come in one weekend when I first got the keys, surprising me by installing drying racks and shelves as well as large utility sinks with counters in two different corners. He'd also reinforced the window and door, and brought in a surprisingly nice couch with a mini-fridge next to it.
Checking the multitude of solid locks on the door, I ensure that nothing has been touched since I was here a few days ago and go over by the window which I installed a one-way panel on to keep people from seeing in from other office building windows. This whole block and the ones on the other two sides are nothing but old buildings that were converted to offices by a large corporation several years prior. They've made it convenient by pulling the rent and utilities directly from my bank account each month which I appreciate as something I don't have to worry about, coming and going as I need.
An easel storage rack is mounted to the wall next to the window, and I grab my favorite one then get out a partially finished painting I had on the drying rack. This particular one has started out as a small rocky cliff overlooking a beach, and I get an idea as I change it to more of a cold looking northern sea. Jason's surprise had included a large custom-made chest that he was very proud of, small details carved into the lid, and lots of compartments built inside for me to store my paints in a well sorted manner. A matching tall cabinet sits next to it, the front French doors opening to an array of cubby holes and drawers for brushes and utensils.
Adding deep shadows and the details of a night sky to the painting, I take several hours doing continuous adjustments until I'm happy with the scene. I finish it up with the black silhouette of a Viking ship far out to sea, which I use the internet and additionally text Godric to make sure it looks right for when Eric was a human. Decidedly not signing or marking it in any way as my work, I spray it with a sealant that quickly sets the image, and call a private delivery company I like to use. I'm a couple of hours into the start of a piece for a school assignment when pickup arrives, and he helps me to carefully wrap it up in a protective film paper before packing it into a large specially padded box I already have on hand. Making sure the driver knows what to do, I put a note on the delivery slip to be given to Eric. I do not appreciate gifts of expensive tastes. I prefer simpler things that I think the recipient will enjoy receiving.
Watching out the window, I'm happy when it is safely loaded into the back of a box truck and it's secured before the delivery driver takes off down the street. Fangtasia is on the west side of town while my work space is on the south, and I take a break from my painting to clean up and sit down on a cushioned chair I have by the door.
Reaching out with my telepathy, I try to see if I can cover Fangtasia mentally, and am surprised to be able to follow the delivery driver all of the way there. Niall had said that my powers were not done growing, but I'm still impressed with myself that I can reach so far as Fangtasia. A woman sitting alone at the bar having a drink after work is the perfect target, and I watch through her as the delivery man comes in carrying the box carefully, sitting it up against the stage before handing the delivery slip to Eric. He leaves, and I watch as Eric examines the paper for a long moment, finally standing and watching as a human waiter takes the box to his office. He opens it as Eric watches carefully, unwrapping the painting and sitting it up against a chair for Eric to see as he goes to remove the packaging. Stepping forward, Eric closely examines the picture, and I can't tell whether he likes it or not as the human leaves out the door with the discarded box.
Returning to myself, I contemplate Eric and how he seems to act. At times he is almost caring, but then he goes and says things like what he did when I was at his house, and I can't help but doubt. Shaking my head, I put the thoughts away, decidedly going back to what I was doing as I lose myself in my schoolwork.
I am sliding a canvas carefully into the drying rack when a knock at the door nearly makes me drop it, reaching out mentally as I finish. Sighing, I recognize the void as Eric and wonder at how he managed to find me here. It takes a moment to undo all of the door locks and when I open it slightly to ask what he wants, he pushes it the rest of the way, strolling in casually before I roll my eyes and close it behind him. "What are you doing here?" I ask and he has a cocky grin.
"I came to check on my fairy, since I take it you are not holding a grudge for my careless words, and I did enjoy what I received. You should have signed it though." Looking at him for a second before turning, I move a few canvases around to clear off a space on the counter, and finally jump up to sit on it.
"You know who painted it, isn't that good enough?" He is looking at the walls, having noticed that they are murals.
"Maybe I want it appraised. Is your work known?"
"You would sell what I made for you?"
He seems caught off guard by my response and looks at me, no longer examining my murals. "No, but your work is very good and I would like to be able to tell people who did it as it will be hanging in my office. It would also seem that your landlord got a message just a few minutes ago from his boss, and your rent is now ten dollars per month as part of a special school scholarship." His grin is as cocky as they come, and I am extremely unsure, hesitating on what to say to that.
"Who is the landlord's boss?" I finally ask, that having been the most prominent question in my mind.
"Northern Investments, Incorporated. If you do some checking, you could find that it is owned by one Eric Northman, of Shreveport Louisiana. I bought these few blocks when real estate was quite cheap, and had the buildings all refurbished into useful spaces. You should have felt how surprised I was when the delivery slip for your gift had an address that I recognized as belonging to me." I kick myself, realizing that I hadn't paid attention to the details on the piece of paper, and finally smile.
"Thank you for the gift on the rent, but I've been thinking about it, and there is something you must do before I will go on any date with you."
"A date?" His uncertainty makes me chuckle.
"Yes, but there is something you must do to even get that far. You have to ask permission." The question on his mind is obvious, and I just grin wider. "I want to hear you say it."
"Fine." He relents after a second. "Who am I to ask for permission?"
"Godric." I say confidently, but I falter for a second when his face darkens and he is suddenly standing over me.