A/N: You know you are officially addicted to E/S fic when you start listening to songs and applying it to their lives/relationship! LOL! I was listening to 'So Long, Good Bye' by 10 Years, and for some reason, it made me think of Sookie and her relationship with other 'humans', including her own family and friends.
This is a 'what if' story based on the events at the end of ATD. Sookie has just helped Eric and Pam out of the window, and it takes off from the moment that Eric bends down to cover Pam. My Sookie -- and to an extent, some of the other characters as well -- are more OOC. IMO, I would think that as she gets deeper into the Supe world, the bombing would have made her a little disheartened towards her own 'kind' knowing that it was humans that set the bombs - keeping in mind that books 8 and up have not taken place yet. I also feel like since the moment Bill walked into Merlotte's, Sookie's life has been a platform of falling dominoes, where one event lead to another, and so on. I have just rerouted the domino path in her life. This will only be about the size of a long one-shot, or 3 or 4 chapters. It could go longer based on response.
I have to first give my love to Sunkisz, who always makes sense of my messes, and encourages me like no other. *hugs her Sun*
Major Disclaimer: The first 3.4K words are a combination of predominately my own musings, a little bit of paraphrasing (but, basically just using the concepts and time frame of actions from the pages 286 - 301 of ATD) and anything in italics is owned by the talented Charlaine Harris, including the characters. I wanted to reset the stage as well as start giving some insight in to some of Sookie's 'new' thoughts and start moving her down a different path.
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Screams and moans laced with pain and fear.
Echoes of drywall, bricks, and unsecured structures giving way to the floor beneath them.
The groan of steel bending against the pressures forced unnaturally upon its infrastructure.
Dull 'pops' muffled by their hidden and evasive holdings.
These were just the audible sounds.
I reached up and swiped my stringy wet hair out of my eyes, tucking a large section behind my ear and out of the way. The hotel sprinkler system had gone off immediately with the initial blast. I coughed with squinted eyes, scanning the perimeter for help. Through the cloud of smoke, I could just make out the bright yellow jackets of the diligent rescue workers that had already arrived on the scene. It was late morning -- nearly afternoon -- yet the bright sky around the immediate vicinity of the hotel was dimmed.
After clearing my throat , I shouted toward the direction of the workers who were standing shocked from the spectacle before them. At first they couldn't hear over the sounds of the deafening fire alarm going off behind me. My throat felt parched and my lungs heavy from the dirty air. Looking down at Eric shielding Pam tugged at my heart. I had to get them to safety, so I shouted again.
I pointed to the blanketed heap. "Two vampires - get them out of the sun!" I said.
The pair of EMTs, both young women, exchanged an incredulous glance. "What do we do with them?" asked the dark one.
"You take them to a nice basement somewhere, one without any windows, and you tell the owners to keep that basement open, because there are gonna be more."
"We'll tell everyone," said the dark woman. Pam was now in the ambulance and Eric halfway there. His face was bright red and steam was rising from his lips. Oh, my God. "What are you going to do?"
"I have to go back in there," I said.
"Fool," she said, and then threw herself in the ambulance, which took off.
Yes. I may be a fool, but I would not stand by and watch the suffering of innocents - both vampire and human alike - surrender to death all because of ignorance.
Another floor suddenly gave way and collapsed to the one below it. A blanket of dust, papers, and other debris were violently forced out between the cement layers onto the victims, and emergency workers scattered around the once functional parking lot. It looked like a war zone, and I guess in a way it was.
The smells were nothing I had ever experienced, and I silently prayed that I never would again. Sulfur, charcoal, and the pungent, yet sweet smell of burning and dying flesh enveloped the once grandeur Pyramid of Gizeh. I knew that my sense of smell would forever be changed by what I was experiencing at this moment. I only hoped that when this was all over, the smell would come out of my clothes and hair.
As disturbing as the putrid stench was, it was nothing compared to what I could mentally hear. The horrifying silent screams, curses, pleas, and prayers of the minds of their human owners. The desire to force my shields up was consuming, but I knew that the only way I could search for survivors was to keep them down. Instead, I tried desperately to focus on the fact that they were living, rather than in perilous pain.
I was determined to get to them, to tell them that help was on the way. You must get to them, I silently repeated in my mind. It was the only way I could keep myself composed and fight the overwhelming instinct to slip away into the shadows and pretend that this wasn't really happening.
I glanced up, scanning the once solid and whole exterior wall of the hotel and noticed a familiar figure standing in a gapping area that had once held a window and wall. The customary midnight black suit, crisp white dress shirt, and a deep red and gold tie similar to last night's, were now covered in soot and ash. Dirt hid the color of his light olive skin and his perfectly maintained hair was now tousled. It took me only a moment to register that the blue suitcase Mr. Cataliades was now tossing out of the window was one that had been brought to the Queen's room not too long ago. Panic and adrenaline rushed through my already pulsating veins. I new immediately what it held.
"Down!" I yelled. "Bomb!"
I dove and took down the nearest police officer, paying little attention to whether I was hurting her or not. This was now a game of survival -- not of delicate maneuvering. For a brief moment my world went silent due to the deafening blast. It was eerily quiet and I couldn't help but find relief and comfort in it.
Slowly, like tuning a radio station, both the outside noises that I could hear with my ears, and inner sounds, I could hear with my mind, came back. The high octave, piercing sound of a nearby fire truck came whirling by, jolting my eardrums with a final shock. I could hear other officers barking out commands in the distance and paramedics scrambling on the scene.
Looking back up, through the unsettled dust, I saw the powerful lawyer effortlessly scoop up a bundle off the floor. It was swaddled in a white hotel blanket like that of a babe, but much larger. Without a doubt in my mind I knew it was Sophie Ann. Instantly a flood of emotions erupted from deep within. Fear, sorrow, resentment, and an undercurrent of hopefulness. I reigned in my compelling reaction to ponder on for later knowing now was not the right time - there was too much to do at this moment.
"Look!" I called, to get a fireman's attention. "Look!" They leaped into action at seeing a live person to rescue.
Mr. Cataliades nodded to me as thanks, in which I responded in kind, and went back to helping.
Scanning the wreckage, I found a familiar shape wedged between a silver BMW and black Navigator. Oh, God, no, I thought as I approached the broken and lid-free wooden coffin. Falling to my knees, I frantically waved my hand back and forth trying forcefully to clear the smoke escaping from the top. My heart sank as I watched the blackened exterior of a once undead vampire crumble slowly into ash. Their wavy red hair being the last to finally succumb to final death. I was too late. They died alone. I refused to let the tears threatening to spill out of my eyes fall. Instead, I quickly steeled myself again, more determined than ever to find survivors.
I was a little disheartened to see paramedics, police officers, and fire men caring more for the humans than the helpless vampires. Anxiously, I looked for another vulnerable victim. Another coffin laid diagonal to me and closer to the now burning building. I pushed myself up off my knees and meandered my way around the debris to it. A faint moan could be heard as I approached. My heart rate sped up slightly at the hopes of someone still alive. The burning had been slowed due to the coffin lying within the shadows cast by a remaining wall. Quickly, I ran back to the coffin that now held ashes. The lid that had fallen off was surprisingly lighter than I anticipated, making it much more manageable for me to drag back to cover the survivor until help arrived.
"Here's another one!" I screamed at a passing officer, while pointing at the coffin. My eyes narrowed at the pause he gave to what the survivor was, before he final nodded and yelled back to his partner for help.
For the first time I noticed that there was a crowd of regular people who had stopped their cars and gotten out to help - or gawk. There were also people who were screaming, "Let them burn!"
Anger rose up again at the people standing idly by, spewing out their hatred for all to hear -- including the dying. Didn't they see death in front of them? Didn't they see the consequences of hate and ignorance? How could my own species fail me now? I wanted to scream at them and tell them that I've defended humans and our supposed compassion for so long! I wanted to scream at them and tell them what I knew. Vampires didn't set these bombs, I thought, it was humans. At this I shed a single tear at the failure of my kind. They were letting me down.
The parking lot was quickly filling with emergency vehicles, fire trucks, rescue workers, and a few caring civilians. The sounds, both external and internal that I was hearing, were becoming to much for me, but I needed to keep on. Gran always told me I was a fighter and I couldn't let her down now. I tried to will away the obvious tremors that had taken up residence in my hands. I hadn't noticed it earlier, but concluded that my mind was holding myself together why my body was starting to give up.
I closed my eyes to mentally search for survivors. I found it easier than normal to pin-point the exact locations of people, despite the loud broadcasting of screams and pleas going on in their minds. Must be the Vampire blood, I concluded, which made me think about my vampire donor and how he and Pam were doing. If anybody was a fighter, it was Eric, and I knew he would fight any amount of sunlight to make sure he and his child were safe. At least telling myself that he would and could, brought me a little peace-of-mind. I found it just slightly unsettling that I suddenly wished I was safe with Eric.
For an hour, maybe more, I searched and found dozens of vampire and human survivors and pointed them out to rescue workers. But, the longer I subjected myself to the use of my disability, both voluntarily and not, I found myself mentally and physically fatiguing. My hand tremors were getting worse. I needed a moment to gather myself knowing that without a short break I would be useless to everyone -- including myself.
Finding a discarded yellow rescue jacket and hard hat atop the hood of a police car, I pulled them on and headed towards the deteriorating lobby to look for momentary refuge from the disturbing sights and sounds around me. To my dismay, once inside, I found one completely burned vamp and one who would be in some serious pain from the earnestness of her burns on her hands and feet. Again, I found myself yelling for help. Apparently there was no such thing as a semi-quiet sanctuary.
Blankets were quickly thrown over the moaning vampires. I turned to thank the helpers, when I noticed that they were the same two paramedics that had assisted in securing Pam and Eric in their ambulance.
"We got a building two blocks away; we're using it for the vampire repository," the light-skinned female stated.
As simple as that statement was, it allowed a little weight off my shoulders that I didn't realize I was carrying. My vampires were safe. Wait! Did I really just call Pam and Eric, my vampires? I definitely did not have time to analyze my use of pronouns at this moment. I just nodded my head, silently thanking them, letting the fatigue tug further on my body and spirit.
Still determined to take a much needed break, I staggered off to a heap of fallen drywall and sat down. I cradled my weary head in my quivering hands and finally allowed myself to weep. Under my weight, the debris shifted, surprising me by exposing a once sheltered Bill. I gasped at the sight that half of his face had been burned. Instinctively, I leaned over his upper body, trying to shield him from the sunlight. The smell was vile and it took everything in me to remain in position. Despite our issues, he was still someone I could wish no harm upon.
"Help! Someone, please, help!" I shouted.
I had barely finished my exclamation when a blanket was tossed over him and he was helped to safety. I sat back on my heels, stupefied at the reality of the situation. It was when I found vampires and humans that I knew personally that I felt the actuality of events hit me the hardest.
The shuffling sounds of workers dragging bodies and moving toppled items pulled me back to the now. The groaning of the building threatening to fall to finality had me seconded guessing if this was the safest place for me to be. I stumbled out of a working glass door into a small opening that lead to a narrow alley between two wings of the hotel.
Suddenly, a very familiar brain wave came into focus. It belonged to the person I had really been trying to find over the last couple of hours. Both Quinn and Frannie where peaking out behind rubble when I finally happened upon them. It was obvious that Frannie was unconscious, but okay. Quinn was just dazed.
He tried to smile at me. I fell to me knees beside him." We might have to change our plans, babe," he said.
The threshold of my tear ducts finally gave way spilling silent streams of tears down my cheeks. I knew deep down that things had just changed, in a significant way, between us. But something about his proclamation made me think that he wasn't just meaning things had changed because of today's events.
Who was I kidding? They had been changing. Ever since the day that I sat nervously in Eric's office at Fangtasia, listening to my fate at attending the summit, events had been put into motion that would change things between us. The culminating event was the bond I now shared with Eric. A bond that I had no say in, and lacked any understanding of.
I told him that I understood and that he could call me when he and Frannie were feeling better. Part of me knew that it was unlikely, or least not going to happen any time in the near future. There was one more boyfriend that I could check off of the 'possible future with' list, but really could I blame him? I was essentially tied to another in a supernatural way and he also had a younger sister to care for. I let one of the tears fall for the notion that at least he had a good relationship with his sibling. I only dreamed of it.
Just as I was preparing to leave, I heard the sound of movement under a pile of rubble to the side of me. Scooting further down the dimly lit passageway, I lifted a few of the toppled boards that hid the victim, only to be face-to-face with the creature who I despised. Andre's minor injuries would allow him to live and I couldn't help but feel very displeased about that. The Christian in me would not allow me to pick up the broken wooden board at his feet, no matter how much I wanted to end his pursuit to own me.
Quinn's darkened eyes radiated malice when I reported back to him that it was Andre. His voice was hardened and low when he told me to leave to find others. At first I didn't understand why he would dismiss me with such coldness, until finally the 'Ah, ha' moment registered. Staring into his eyes, trying to understand if this was really something he wanted to do, I found certainty. I squeezed his hand, lifted myself from my crouched position, and turned my back to walk away.
The shuffle, then silence, I heard once I turned my back, had me pushing away the errant feeling that tried to make its way to the surface. I gave myself permission to feel a hint of relief as I walked toward the gathering of rescuers in search of some much needed water.
I had finished my water and was now splashing my face with the remainder in the bottom, when I heard someone broadcasting directly at me. Barry had escaped unscathed, but I wondered where he had been up until now. He actually had the audacity to ask me to help him start finding survivors! Like I was just sitting on the grassy knoll watching the scene unfold without lifting a finger. I told him that's what I had been doing. He quickly rephrased his statement and said that we would be stronger if we worked together. Despite my body screaming at me for rest, I knew he was right; we had discovered earlier this week that we were stronger together.
When I found Barry at the control center, we joined hands -- and forces -- and began searching for more brainwaves. We really were stronger together. We found dozens of buried survivors, and with less effort than doing it independently - despite my recent addition of vamp blood.
The only road block we faced was getting people to take us seriously. We tried at first to be evasive on how we found the missing survivors, not wanting to let the cat-out-of-the-bag just yet. But when that didn't work, we hesitantly told our secret. I was amazed that even then nobody believed us. Didn't anybody ever watch X-Files? It wasn't until we met a worn-out gray-haired man, who was probably too tired to fight the oddness that we presented him with, who told us to take two firefighters and begin doing what we do.
For another hour we searched, under critical eyes, for survivors. We became quite popular after that and were even thanked by a few of the skeptics. Both Barry and I had pushed ourselves to the limits. I felt that I had done all that I could do and decided it was time for me to take a much needed rest.
Dusk was coming upon us and I knew that the workers should not be searching the debris on their own. The vamps would be rising and be very hungry, so I relayed my concerns to the fire chief. I also asked him where the survivors had been taken.
"They're all in the Thorne Building, right down there," he said pointing. "In the basement."
Barry and I turned to walk away only to be stopped by the police chief asking for our names and addresses so as to be thanked properly by the city officials. Just as I was about to open my mouth, Barry silently shouted, "No!... Someone will try to find out. Someone will try to use us."
I sighed, and I hardly had the energy to take in more air. I nodded. Yeah, someone will.
The only thing I could think of to do was find someone, anyone, to get us out of this mess. Barry and I turned our back to the chief, acting as if we were talking about something personal, in order to buy us some time. All the vampires I knew were, obviously, unavailable. Batanya and Clovache were taking guard of their charge - the King of Kentucky. Alcide and his pack were way too far away. Quinn would be taking his injured sister to the hospital. I needed someone now. Then it dawned on me. Of course, Mr. Cataliades would be available. Patting my jeans, I thanked God that I had slipped my cell phone in the front pocket, before making my way to Eric and Pam's hotel room.
Our phone conversation was brief, and as if he had transported, Mr. Cataliades was there immediately handing the chief his business card and ushering a very tired and very dirty, Barry and I, towards the shelter. He had grabbed two sets of discarded rescue jackets and hard hats from a near by control center table, making us cover ourselves as best as we could to obscure our faces from any onlookers looking to find out who and what we were. I had tucked my hair up into the helmet and donned the extra large, heavy canvas coat, making sure to to unroll the collar up around the lower part of my face. Mr. Cataliades had to help me with the pewter clips on the front, due to the fact that I still could not control the tremors in my hands.
My head starting spinning with questions of what had happened. Who survived and who made it to safety, to name a few. Surely some prominent names had to be on the list of casualties. Images of those I had made contact with over the last couple of days zipped through my head like a movie real set at high speed. Then it hit me. I abruptly stopped, causing Barry to run in to my back.
"What?…. What is it?" he asked with hesitation. I was surprised that he hadn't already plucked the reasoning from my head, but I figured he was lost in his own thoughts, just as I had been.
Turning my head to Mr. Cataliades, who had also stopped in response to my action, I asked him, "What will we find when we get there? It's bad isn't it? Will I …Is there… Were there a lot of vamp casualties? Did everyone I come with...make it?" I was scared to hear the answer, but I needed to know before I took one step further. I was confident that Eric had survived. I didn't know why, but it was almost some sixth sense or intuition that made me feel like he was safe. I found it oddly comforting. But, it had been hours since I saw any member of my direct party and anything could have happened between then and now.
Mr. Cataliades' usually stoic countenance shifted briefly to a look of sorrow and concern before responding with some hesitancy. "Unfortunately, Ms. Stackhouse, only tomorrow evening will shed light on that question. This night is almost upon us, but many vampires will need a full night's recovery before we are able to truly assess...damages." I had no need to ask him what he meant by damages; I knew he meant final death.
"Pam?" I inquired.
"Burns that will repair themselves within a few nights time," he stated emotionless.
Feeling relief knowing that she would be fine, I asked, "Eric?"
"Minor burns. I predict he should be near fully healed by tomorrow night -- thanks to you," he responded with a wink and a smirk that brought a small upturn to my own mouth.
I looked down, pulling the collar of the jacket further up around my ears before wrapping my arms around myself, giving myself a false sense of security from the stiff fabric cocoon, hesitant to ask for the fate of the next vampire. Quietly I asked, "And Bill?"
"His injuries, like that of the Queen's, are quite grave. They have been placed in an area of the building that is housing the 'night watch'. Local vamps, and those that are able, have volunteered their services to keep watch and make sure that there is a constant supply of blood to assist in their healing. We were very lucky in the building that was made available to us. The Thorne building has an underground parking garage --where we are keeping the seriously injured -- as well as two floors of light tight office suites in the high-rise, for Vampire business owners that often need to stay the day," he stated matter-of-factly.
My mental musings of what I envisioned to be the area of the building that housed those in serious despair sent chills down my spine. I pictured something straight out of a horror movie that Amelia and I had just watched. Dark underground parking lot -- damp, mildewy smell, flickering florescent lights, dripping pipes, and unenclosed echoing. I hope they would at least bring in cots for the vampires.
I was too tired to think about the different emotions careening around my conscience when I thought about the severity of the situation that Sophie Ann was in. I still didn't know the extent of the role, if any, that she played in Andre's forceful attempt at tying me to himself, and in turn, her. The last few of our interactions, I got the impression that she may not have known about it, and at times, even seemed thankful for me and expressing an interest in my contentment. Maybe the culprit that was the real mastermind behind the manipulations had met his final death.
Bill was a whole 'nother issue. Despite all the many issues we had -- and have -- I still wouldn't wish for his final death. I would pray for him and hope for the best, but in the end, I hoped he would find peace and move on, no matter what the outcome may be.
Barry still hadn't asked about his own party and I wondered why. "Barry?" I projected to him. He looked so lost and distressed that I figured if he heard me privately, it would help him come to terms with whatever he was mentally deciphering. "Barry? Are you okay?" I prodded.
He was fidgeting by pulling on the cuffs of his jacket, while shifting slightly from foot to foot. "I'm a little nervous to ask, Sookie. If something happened, I just don't know what I would do. I've finally found a place in my life where I'm accepted, and ...wanted." He looked a little shocked when he thought the last part to me.
I waited a few more seconds, thinking that he would continue. But, when all I could hear mentally was him reminiscing events that obviously backed up his claim, I retorted inaudibly, "Then, may I?" He just shook his head yes.
"Excuse me, Mr. Cataliades, but would you please tell me what news you have of King Stan Davis?"
"The King of Texas, was another vampire that was injured quite badly. He has been placed on the first floor of the building, that is light tight and holding definite survivors, but whom will require some care, if you will."
Note to self: Donors must be the new code word for 'care', I thought.
"Your Pam is also on that floor," he added. Again, I wondered what was up with the pronouns.
Figures. She would be on the floor that required human donors. I'm sure if she was able to speak right now, she would be putting in a very specific order in something of the form of a tall, leggy brunette. I had to chuckle at that.
Barry still hadn't said anything, so this time I chose to voice my concern in the open.
His voice held conviction when he finally spoke. "I think I should leave, Sookie."
"What? Why?" I asked, shocked that he would leave his King, who he just professed that he was loyal to. Not to mention knowing there were people now looking for us.
"Because while the King is injured, Joseph will be the one in charge temporarily."
I nodded and gave him the common 'continue' motion with my hands. It irritated me when people paused in the middle of a sentence or discussion for some unnecessary dramatic effect. Especially after the day we've had; all I wanted to do was lay down.
"Joseph doesn't trust me still and has spent a lot of time trying to get the King to let me go. Stan has been the only one that has continued to believe, and even trust, in me. I get the feeling that Joseph might even be jealous of the relationship I have with his King. Stan has kept Joseph away from me so far, however, I feel that without Stan being able to do so now, things may not play out well for me."
I glanced over to the lawyer beside me when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. Mr. Cataliades simply nodded his head as if he knew that what Barry was saying was true.
"Can you get him out safely?" I asked Mr. Cataliades.
"Yes. I believe so. First, however, I must take you to your Viking. The longer we stand here in the open, the greater the chances that someone will recognize the two of you."
Geez! Could people let me make up my own mind? Eric, himself, didn't even know what I was to him. I was getting irritated over the presumptions. "He's not my Viking."
"I do not care to argue."
I thought it was kind of ironic that the lawyer didn't want to argue, but neither did I. Each minute that passed, I felt my body struggle to carry on. Instead, I let the lawyer lead me towards my shelter and sanctuary from this horrendous and exhausting day.
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The Thorne building stood like a welcoming beacon in this dreadful night. The ornate exterior lights placed strategically around the faces of the building illuminated the modern high rise. Two intimidating men with crossed arms stood on either side of the metal door leading to the back employee entrance of the building. The stance that they held accentuated the broadness of their shoulders and large arms. I'm sure the taut short sleeve black shirts that lead to their narrow, belted waists contributed to that appearance. Both of the mens' brainwaves were fuzzy, which I concluded meant they were Were's.
The security guards must have known Mr. Cataliades, because we barely had to slow our stride, as they opened the door to allow us entrance. The hallway was narrow, emanating a soft glow of low wattage light, in which I could barely make out the colors that made up the dark multi-colored carpet. It had that hotel smell. The smell that was different from a 'lived in' place - almost like it was sterile and new.
A quarter way down the hall, the lawyer stopped us in front of a wooden door adorned with a golden plaque with the word 'STAIRS' engraved in black. He pointed first to the right saying that if we were to continue moving forward we would end up at the main entrance of the building that gained access to the first floor, light tight offices. He also informed Barry and I, that there was an access door to the underground parking garage, where they were housing the most severely injured vampires from the bombing.
Mr. Cataliades was always a very serious daemon, but his voice was almost frightening when he broke the silence. "Don't - under any circumstances - go wandering to either place, Sookie. The parking garage is completely out of the question. It is locked and guarded by vampires and Were's and no humans are permitted; it is simply way, too dangerous. While the floor we're on doesn't offer the same severity of dangers, it is still not a good idea for humans to be here. If a hungry, healing vampire were to sneak off and find a human -- well, let's just say, it would be better safe than sorry for you to stay where I'm taking you."
If I hadn't had some of Eric's blood recently, I probably would not have heard the audible sound of Barry swallowing. I did, however, hear the crystal clear thoughts of him saying, "Dear God, am I glad I'm getting out of here! Sookie's crazy! I don't care if she does have some weird kind of tie to that tall, blond vamp; he's been injured for Christ's sake!"
Barry's ramblings made me rethink my confidence that Eric wouldn't hurt me. Never mind the fact that I would be alone -- with Eric -- in a light tight suite. Now it was my time to gulp and develop a slight sheen of sweat on my palms. "Um, Mr. Cataliades? Are you sure this is a good idea that I'm here? I mean, maybe Barry's right. Maybe I should just find a way to get home. Even if it is just Eric up there, I don't know if this is the right decision."
"Ms. Stackhouse, I assure you that no harm will come to you where you will be." His voice was soft and reflective when he paused and said, "Unless that is a game the two of you wish to play."
Barry lightly chuckled then coughed trying to cover it, causing me to feel a combination of embarrassment and irritation start to surface, and I just knew I must have turned red. I was just about to give that ass of a lawyer a piece of my mind when he continued, "But, I assure you, you will be safe. All the other regents, that are unharmed, are also stationed on that floor and heavily guarded as well. And don't forget that Batanya and Clovache are also with the King of Kentucky."
I thought it over briefly before nodding my head. I was too tired, both emotionally and physically to argue. If Mr. Cataliades gave me his word that I would be safe and protected, then I would just have to believe that he would follow through on it. I had an odd sense of trust in the daemon lawyer, despite knowing each other for a short period of time, and his occasional ability to irritate me. He must have taken that as a go ahead, and preceded to push down on the handle that lead us into the stairwell and up to Eric.
On a final note….
Don't forget to check out Teaser Monday's where you can get a sneak peak in to upcoming fics! http: // forum . fanfiction . net / topic / 55534 / 19191439 / 1
Also, the Support Stacie Auction starts TODAY (Jan 15 - 18). This auction is to bid on some kick ass writers (many of who we all know and love from right here on SVM FF) who put themselves up on the auction block, then you tell them what you would like them to write! I checked out the site again this morning, and WOW, are there a lot of great writers! All proceeds that are collected go to help Stacie (who doesn't have medical insurance) battle ovarian and breast cancer. Please go check out the site and learn more about Stacie, the current auction, and future ones. http: // supportstacie . com /
Now, I would love to know your thoughts about this little what if story, but I can't unless you hit the little green button! :P