After placing Bentley in the back seat, Eric climbed in next to him. He allowed Bentley's head to rest in his lap. There was dirt on the back of the mortal's head, and cold sweat from fear, Eric guessed, but it wasn't a big deal to Eric. He was about to get buried in the dirt. Making a fuss over a little dirt and sweat on him, now, would just be incredibly stupid.

The boy's face was pale and his expression was blank, but Eric knew he wasn't calm. He had been stalked, intimidated, and molested in one night. Not to mention fed on by two vampires. Who could be calm after that? He was probably so blank in the face because his body didn't know what to think, especially after being saved only to be bitten again. He was probably so out of it when Eric bit him that his mind just melted away as his consciousness did.

Eric made a mental note to find the vampire that bit him, first, and put him through the ringer. Since he had bit Bentley shortly after the other vampire, his taste had been on Bentley's skin. Plus, the cologne and deodorant he wore was nauseatingly strong. He wouldn't be hard to find.

"If you don't exchange blood soon, he's going to die," Pam said casually, speeding the Charger up so they made the yellow light next to Fangtasia. Eric hadn't known they were out of the parking lot. He had been observing Bentley's face and plotting. "Unless that's what you're wanting?"

The vampire huffed softly and brought his wrist to his mouth. After his canines had extended, he sat them on top of his wrist, sighed, and bought them across the skin there. Blood began seeping up from his skin as a stinging sensation fluttered through his limb. He pushed the sensation out of his mind and began tapping Bentley's cheek with his free hand. At first, the tapping was light. When the human didn't respond, though, Eric began smacking him. The pale flesh on Bentley's right cheek was undoubtedly stinging. If this didn't wake him up, Eric had waited too long.

"Open your eyes," Eric commanded, still smacking at Bentley's cheek. The mortal stirred very lightly, his haphazard breath hitching every odd time his cheek was struck.

"Open your mouth," Eric said, his voice slightly relieved. When the human complied, he put his wrist to Bentley's slightly ajar lips. At first, Eric's blood just dripped in. Bentley wasn't doing anything. Frustrated, Eric sat the boy up, propping his head against Eric's right knee. "Suck. Or you're going to die, and my wound is doing to close up. I know you can hear me. I won't do this again."

Bentley's hazel eyes fluttered open. He made eye contact with Eric for a second, his eyes cloudy and distant, like there was a slippery film covering them that prevented him from seeing clearly, before complying. He sucked lightly at first, unsure of what was going on, but as the second passed and Bon Temps flashed around them, Pam speeding without a doubt, he gained more fervor.

When Eric pulled back his wrist, his skin was red and smeared with blood. He wiped his wrist on his pants leg dismissively and watched as Bentley blinked, slightly more aware of his surroundings now. His face was still blank, but thoughts were slowly getting processed. "Take it easy. Just lie there. You'll be able to sleep soon," Eric muttered.

It took a few minutes to get to Bon Temps local cemetery. When they finally arrived, Pam parked beneath a bowing Willow. "Shovels are in the trunk," she told him as she opened her door.

"Why do you have shovels in the trunk?" Eric smirked.

"Because there's always something happening in this town. Might as well be prepared." She gave him a wicked smile and went to the back of her car.

Eric lifted Bentley out of the car with ease. He cradled the human in his arms as if he were a small child. Behind him, he heard Pam gathering two shovels. After she shut the trunk door, he lead her into the cemetery, keen on finding a spot away from wandering eyes. Beneath an oak tree in the far left corner of the cemetery was the spot Eric chose. He laid down Bentley and went to work digging.

"It's a shame that he had to get himself attacked so early in the night," Pam muttered, stepping on the back of her shovel. Effortlessly she removed the dirt she had just disturbed and dumped it beside her feet. There was already dirt in her shoes. She grumbled unhappily. "You're going to be underground, bored under your mind, until you fall asleep."

Eric laughed and dumped a shovelful in his own pile. It was a shame, but he had to do it. He couldn't let Bentley die. He was attacked too close to Fangtasia. The human world that disliked the vampires could use that to attack the vampires that frequented it.

If Bentley had been attacked somewhere else, Eric wouldn't have cared.

But it was his duty, especially with him being sheriff. So he channeled his frustration on digging.

The hole was almost seven feet long and three and a half feet across. And it was shallow, only about two feet deep. Since they weren't burying him, or Eric, it wasn't necessary to make it seven or eight feet deep, seeing as both Eric and Bentley were rather thin and they were going to dig their way out the next nightfall.

Bentley was laid in first, in a way that was uncharacteristically ginger for Eric.

Pam watched, a bemused expression on her face.

"Bring the car around tomorrow, around this time. I'm going to try and calm him down, teach him a little of the ropes...then we'll go back to Fangtasia and forget this ever happened," Eric instructed and climbed down the shallow, makeshift grave. The earth was both cold and warm around him. He made himself as comfortable as he could be under the circumstances before nodding to Pam.

She grabbed her shovel. "How can we forget this ever happened? We'll have a brat on our hands," she sighed. A shovelful of dirt was deposited on Eric's feet. She smirked a little. "You are going to tend to him, aren't you? Extensively, I mean. Like Bill and...Janice?"

"Jessica," Eric amended.

"Yes, like Bill and Jessica. You could always command him away. You are his maker." And he was Pam's, as well. She didn't like the thought of sharing Eric with this kid, and would try her hardest to get him to send Bentley on his way.

"He will stay. At least until he's a little older." How old was the kid, now? He looked to be eighteen-years-old, but what did Eric know? He had looked the same way for hundreds of years. He could make out the differences between forty-year-olds and teenagers, but getting exact numbers was beyond him. "Keep shoveling, Pam."

Without another word, she did as she was told. Her face was a scowl, though. That changed as she began covering Eric's face. "Sleep well," she muttered.

Eric resisted the urge to flick her off. Bentley's face was sheltered in the crook of Eric's arm. His breath was slowing. Eventually it stopped. When that happened, Eric told himself to follow suit.

- - -

Bentley woke up to droplets of water pelting his skin. The one that woke him dropped on in his ear. It slithered down, amazingly cold, and shook him out of his sleep.

He wished he had stayed asleep.

Where the hell was he? And how did he get there? Was he in some tomb or something? He shifted about uncomfortably, gingerly at first. But as panic welled up in him, his actions grew wild and frightened. He was...in the ground? And it was raining. The raindrops were seeping through the dirt and getting him wet.

Beside him, someone stirred.

He had never moved so fast in his life. He jumped upward, dirt tumbling off of his person. Cold air and rain greeted him. "Where the hell am I?" he shrieked. His voice was shrill and his head hurt. Not to mention he was unbearably hungry.

"Calm, Bentley," a voice said. It was soothing and compelling. It got Bentley to stand still. "Don't be too loud."

"Who are you? And where are we?" Bentley's voice was lower now, slightly calmer, as well, but he was still frightened. All he could remember was being attacked in the forest...

He choked on a sob and muttered, "No...no, no, no, no. This can't be happening."

"It happened, it is happening...calm down. No use crying over spilled milk." Beside him now stood Eric. He was dusting dirt off of his person and muttering to himself about being dirty and wet.

It enraged him. "Spilled milk? Wh...I'm fucking dead!" Bentley pulled at his hair and paced, eying the hole he had just climbed out of. That was his grave. "Oh my fucking God!"

"Hold your tongue," Eric said sharply.

Bentley sobbed loudly, but otherwise stopped yelling. Why was this happening? He had no intention of following orders from this...this murderer, but he submitted either way.

"You're undead. Big difference." The smile offered made Bentley's stomach churn. "You were attacked near Fangtasia. I got the vampire off you, but by the time I had gotten there, you were almost dead. So I finished you off and changed you. I also ruined my outfit. You're welcome."

Eric's nonchalant words made Bentley sob. He stared at his hands. They were covered in dirt, but otherwise they looked the same. Did his face look any different? Had he taken on that eerie pale skin that vampires coined? Did his face scrunch up, like the vampires in Buffy? He felt along his face and discovered that nothing felt out of the ordinary. Except for there was blood on his face. Where the hell did that come from? Nothing hurt, so why was he bleeding?

"You were crying in frustration. Vampires cry blood," Eric mumbled with a shrug of his shoulders. The rain had made his gelled-back dirty-blond hair flat and dark. His shirt clung to him and dripped dirty water. "You get used to it."

Vampires cry blood. He was crying blood.

"Oh, God.." he whimpered.

"Kid, stop. What's been done has been done. Be grateful I changed you. You could be in the ground, permanently." When Eric gestured to the hole in the ground, Bentley grew cold all over. "We're going to go back to Fangtasia as soon as Pam 're hungry, are you not?"

"Starving," he replied, slightly defeated.

The grin Eric gave him was less than comforting. It was teasing, mocking. "You want blood."

Bentley blinked wildly. He knew vampires drank blood, but...

"Yes. You crave blood. You need it to survive." Eric was unbelievably smug. He pushed some of his wet hair from his eyes and grinned even wider. "You can't fight it. You've been changed, Bentley. You are vampire now. And I am your maker.."

Maker? Bentley didn't even know his name, or remember telling him his own, for that matter. Bentley felt a little uncomfortable, but the feeling was almost unnoticeable. He was so frightened by being a vampire now that little else mattered. "Vampire," he repeated. "I'm a vampire now."

Eric laughed softly. There was something soft about it, like he felt sympathetic about how dumbstruck Bentley appeared. Like a scared dog in the middle of a thunderstorm.

In the distance, headlights appeared. "Here she is. Come on, Bentley. Time to go."

Bentley followed, but he felt numb. He was vampire now. The creature he had feared most...and he was one. He kept following his "maker". He didn't feel like he was the one walking, though. He felt like he was floating in the sky, watching this from up above. This couldn't be real. It couldn't.

He got into the car without a word. Eric talked to Pam, but Bentley couldn't hear them. His eyes were blank and so was his mind. He stared at the back of Eric's chair without actually seeing it. What would his dad say? What about Bonnie? He'd have to quit school and feed on people to live. His stomach tightened.

At least he'd get to leave that damn department store...

But then, dad and Bonnie would have to survive on only dad's check...

Bentley cradled his head in his hands.

"He's taking it...uh..." Pam laughed quietly, looking from the windshield wipers to Eric periodically. "I think your little bat is in shock."

Eric looked over his should. Very much in shock. His mouth was slightly ajar and his focus was entirely elsewhere. He laughed, as well, but his was sympathetic. Almost. "It's just knew to him. Mortals in the modern world seem to have a harder time readjusting."

When they reached Fangtasia, Eric had to peel Bentley off the seat. The young vampire was still very much dumbstruck. At least his mouth was almost closed.

They walked into the back of the club. The music from the front was inaudible, but it made the walls vibrate. Eric sat Bentley down on one of the couches and turned to Pam. "Get him something from my stash," he told her.

She nodded almost sourly and walked off towards Eric's office. Eric's stash was composed of blood donated or taken from people all over the world. She had never fed on any of it before, just brought some of it to Eric. Jealousy made her chest throb. Without much thought, she entered the code and opened the refrigerated safe where he kept his stash. She randomly chose a football of blood. With her heel, she closed the vault again.

In the back room, Eric was talking to Bentley. "Pam's going to warm you some blood." There was no response. Slightly frustrated, Eric shook one of the boy's shoulders. He just swayed back and forth like a rag doll. "C'mon. It's not that bad. I could have just let you die."

Bentley whined a little and looked over at him. "Why didn't you?" he asked.

"You were too close to Fangtasia," he replied. The honesty in his words made Bentley fidget a little. "If you had been father away, I wouldn't have cared. But you being so close...it implicated my club. Finding a mortal in the forest near a well-known vampire club isn't good. It involves a lot of cops, and a lot of bad press. So i had to." The words came out like his action was the simplest thing he had ever done, and the best for vampire kind. Was he some kind of hot-shot vampire. He had said Fangtasia was his. "Plus, it's never a bad thing to add another vampire into the mix."

There was a beeping in the corner of the room, and then the slamming of a door. Pam was walking over with a large beer mug in her hand. But beer wasn't inside it. Bentley could see through the clear glass. It was blood. Dark and thick. It was warm, too. Even if the glass had been dark and obscure, he would have smelt it. His stomach flipped wildly. Something primitive had waken up and was now thrashing in his gut. He wanted it.

"Ow," he muttered, startled. His fangs had extended and cut his lip.

Eric laughed at him and shook his head.

"Here," Pam said coldly, holding out the mug.

Bentley took it, avoiding her gaze. He let it sit on his knee and stared at it, trying to conquer the cravings he had for the blood.

He sat there for a few minutes before Pam huffed and walked away, her heels clicking against the floor. Eric laughed again. "You've got some will there. But, drink it. You're going to get cranky and weak. I need to start training you." He leaned back in his seat and gestured to the cup. "If you don't do it willingly, I'll make you. Makers have that kind of power over their fledglings."

There was that word again. "Maker...that means you're my...?"

"That means I changed you, yeah." He dipped his head softly.

"I don't even know your name," he whispered, exhausted. This was all too much.

"Eric. Eric Northman. Now, drink. As your maker, I command you."

The mug gravitated to his lips and the blood slithered down his throat. Bentley tensed, foreseeing himself gagging on the liquid. But nothing of that sort happened. His eyes opened and both hands gripped the mug. He threw his head back and drank faster than he had even done in his life.

"Hungry little devil," was mumbled proudly.

Bentley had been called that before. But it had never applied as well as it had before today. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hands after savagely licking his lips. He was still hungry, too. The blood was...he couldn't describe it. Thick. Delicious. Rich. Sweet. Bitter.

Different.

Eric clapped his hand down on his Bentley's knee. "How does that feel?"

"I'm not sure. I feel better, but I'm still hungry. I also feel disgusted with what I am."

Another laugh. "You get over that." He stood and stretched. Bentley hadn't really looked at him until then. Eric was...awing. He was giant, for starters, with drying sandy hair and muscles that were broad as daylight, even under clothes. If he had been mortal, Bentley could have seen Eric working out in the sun with everyone's eyes on him.

"Now what?" Bentley asked quietly.

"I'm going to get someone to make arrangements for you in the back. See if we have an extra coffin, or something."

He tried his hardest to stifle a laugh. They actually slept in coffins? He vocalized his question and Eric shrugged his shoulder.

"They're more like deluxe boxes. But, yeah. We can sleep in coffins. We can sleep in beds, too. As long as the room we're in has no windows, we can sleep anywhere."

Bentley followed Eric towards the door leading into the dancing area. He watched as Eric called someone over, an employee Bentley guessed, and ordered them to set another coffin up in the back. They nodded and went straight to it. Then he turned around and, with a grin, said, "And so it begins."