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CHAPTER TWO

She regained consciousness slowly, her head hurt and she ached all over. Opening her eyes, she tried to move and found she couldn't. There was a heavy weight across her ribs; she was held in a vice like grip. She was also naked, panic shot through her, she felt bruised and sore, but not raped; she'd have felt that surely? She let out the breath she had been holding. She was wrapped in some sort of fur, but it didn't cover enough, her feet were freezing. It smelled damp and musty, and the air was enclosed, not fresh. Wherever she was, it was cold and very dark. Everything came back to her from the night before as she cautiously felt around. She felt the man's body at once and realised that although he slept, his hold on her body was unbreakable. A jumble of fears wrapped her as tight as the man's clasp.

She could hear, she could feel, but she couldn't see. Trying desperately to edge away, she felt the grip tighten. It hurt and she caught her breath. Frightened of making any noise that might wake her captor, she lay quiet again, afraid even her heartbeat might wake him. She clenched her teeth and forced herself not to shiver, pulling her feet up under the cover. His grip seemed unnaturally tight, almost inhuman. He was asleep. How could he be holding her so tightly?

She curled further under the cover and thought back on how she had arrived in this predicament. If only she hadn't gone to bathe, but she had needed to get away to think. Sam had asked to marry her, but there had been no simple answer. Her thoughts had gone round in circles. Could she? Should she? Sam was sweet and kind, he could help her escape her father, and she was sure he believed he loved her. She was just as sure she didn't love him. But should that stop her? It was normal to get married without love. Security, company, friendship and convenience, all things that seemed to matter more.

Thinking had helped. Calmer now; the only sound was her heartbeat.

She had always dreamed of so much more, especially knowing the stories her father had told of his love for her mother. She knew she wanted that too. They were her favorite times growing up, when he would speak of the mother she barely remembered. Of course it was once her mother died that her father had started beating her. Was that reason enough? No, she had coped with it this long. After all, she was young; maybe she could still find that same love. She would tell Sam she couldn't do it.

But it was cold and both fear and confusion interrupted her thoughts. She was not in too much pain, though the sleeping man's fingers pressed into her body like iron. She sighed, thanked the Lord she had not been raped or killed. With relief and exhaustion, she slid back into a fitful sleep.

She awoke to the feeling she was being watched. She wriggled, finding herself free. No longer held down then, but not alone. The darkness was complete and she saw nothing, but she knew someone was close and watching her. She pulled the fur tighter.

From the bewildering shadows, the sudden voice was soft. "Awake little one?" When he spoke, she exhaled. His voice felt unexpectedly calming, and that puzzled her. It even alarmed her. Within seconds, she regained focus and jumped up and back, cringing when the pain shot through her bruised body.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "Where are my clothes? Why…?"

He chuckled. She couldn't see him, but he could certainly see her. He had woken some time ago with the setting of the unseen sun, surprised that she was still sleeping. His instincts had been to take her and feed when he had undressed her before, but he was old enough to overcome his desires. Besides, there were other desires apart from hunger. He had enjoyed watching her naked breasts rise and fall as she slept, the softness of her face, the sweet human smell of her so close. He had even wondered about her thoughts as her eyelids fluttered and her brow furrowed with her dreams. But sentiment was not always wise. Now that she was awake he needed to regain control.

But he decided to answer her questions. "I'm Eric Northman," he said. "I brought you to a cave in the Lowland Marches, but I intend moving you shortly. And what do I call you?" he pulled himself up from the ground as he spoke, and took a step closer.

Her heartbeat was racing, but she was trying hard to sound confident. "How dare you," she spat at him. "You can't call me anything. Why am I undressed? Where are my clothes?"

Amused, he reached out to take her hand. "I stripped you to check for injuries." He smiled, though it was a smile she couldn't see. "You will have clothes more fitting, when we arrive".

She pulled back, startled as he touched her. Immediately she tugged at the fur, which had slipped, to cover her exposed breasts, nipples erect from the chill. She felt ashamed and self-conscious even though she assumed it was too dark for him to see her.

"Come here," he said.

She crouched in silence for a few breaths. Eventually she said, "No one willingly walks to their death." She pulled herself up and very slowly, she moved against the wall, hoping he couldn't hear her.

"You have nothing to fear at the moment, as long as you do as I say" he said.

She inched to where she had noticed a gleam, hopefully of metal. She jumped and in two steps she reached the blade, at the same moment he unpeeled from the bending shadows and caught her. He grasped her waist, laughing.

She spat in his face, punched with one fist and stabbed with the other. She had wanted his eye, she caught his cheekbone. As he grabbed the knife away, she tried to turn, her arms flailing wildly to scratch him. The knife point made a fleshy groove from the swell of her breast, past the nipple and down across her ribs, before he threw it out of reach. She felt sick, she was weak, losing strength, losing coherence. He bent lower as he turned her to him and, eyes half closed, his fangs descending from the reaction to the smell of her blood, kissed her full on the mouth. As he kissed, he bit.

His desire grew as the blood trickling from the cut hit the back of his throat, This was more than just blood. She was intoxicating.

The heat of the kiss brought her back to full consciousness and fury. Her eyes sparkled with anger as she tried to pull away, but his hold was too strong. "Get your hands off me. I'm not going anywhere with you." She screamed at him, trying to claw his face. He took hold of her arms, and clamped tight.

"Ah." He smiled. "How naive. But any diversion in this sadly predictable life is always welcome. I may decide to keep you a little longer than I'd intended."

Her pulse was racing. Watching her courage and defiance, he smiled slowly to himself, retracting his fangs. But his voice was stern, "You'll do exactly as I tell you." Not used to defiance, he swept her up, slinging her over his shoulder before she had a chance to protest.

Although it was barely audible she could hear the echoes of his laughter, and was furious. With clenched fists she pounded into his back. "Put me down you big ogre," she yelled. But with her stomach squashed against his back, the pain was almost unbearable and the breath was knocked out of her. He laughed louder as he strode towards the cave's entrance. Her anger smouldered. Then, quite suddenly as he carried her round the shadowed corner of the entrance tunnel, she discovered she could see.

When he let her go she collapsed backwards, tumbling onto the grass. He stood looking down at her. The cut across his cheek was disappearing, the blood already congealed, but her own blood still flowed bright. She had not shown herself openly naked since a young child. A woman's flesh remained her own business. She tried to cover herself with her arms despite the pain it caused.

Her embarrassment was as obvious as her anger and pain. "This modesty is a little pointless. Come here," said Eric. He had considered glamouring her, but this was a new experience and he was enjoying it. He wanted to play this game.

She scrambled up still trying to keep herself covered. He stood in front of her inhaling her smell. With a cold finger, which made her shiver, he wiped the dripping blood from her breast and licked it, his eyes filled with desire. He sat her on a rock by the fire. "It will heal." His grin widened. "Now eat." He had lit a small fire while she was sleeping and had already caught and gutted a young boar. This was now skewered over the blaze. The fat dripped into the flames and the sparks danced in the night. Now that she could see him, she knew this was not the man she had expected. Instead, she recognized the man from the river. But the slight relief did not fade her anger. She was furious, and confused by his actions.

She folded her arms tightly across her chest, "I'm not hungry," she snapped. She glared up at him, but he was so tall she had to strain her neck to look in his eyes.

He was smiling, but there was little comfort in that. His expression seemed malicious but his eyes were the most amazing blue and she blinked, as if frightened of losing herself in their depths. His hair, the colour of pale sunshine, was thicker and longer than the normal fashion but he was dressed very finely. His doublet, steel grey velvet and slashed in pearl thread, hung unlaced over a short white shirt, tied loosely across his chest. His hose were a deeper grey and clung tightly to his long graceful legs, outlining the perfect muscles of his thighs and calves. He was booted, the turns of his buckskins loose up to his knees. Unwillingly, she silently acknowledged this was a very handsome man!

The smell of the meat and the grumbles of her stomach brought her back to reality. She was starving and the roasting pork smelled enticing. She was sure she must be drooling as she stared at the carcass. Glossy from the sweating, melting fat, the meat looked so tender she couldn't resist any longer. She watched him take it from the fire, pulling it from the skewer with his bare hands, and rest it in front of her on a platter of leaves.

She half whispered, still clutching at her chest. "Can I have something to cover me? And a knife I can use?" It would serve a double purpose if he gave her one.

He was tempted to refuse just to see that gleam in her eyes again. He enjoyed her nakedness as well as her expressions, just like an angry wildcat kitten. But he had no real reason to deny her. A knife, even turned against him, could not do any serious damage. He nodded and took the cloak from his shoulders and the small knife from his boot. As she reached for them, his hand glanced across hers. Another shiver ran through her as his fingertips ghosted over hers. He chuckled.

She quickly wrapped the cloak around her and held it closed. However to eat, she needed both hands, reluctantly she dropped the hold at her chest and brought up her knees, conscious of his regard. Crouching over, she leaned forwards to rip into the meat. The pork was still pink inside, the grease was too hot and it burned her lips, but now she was too hungry to leave until it cooled. It melted in her mouth. She ate fast. She hadn't eaten anything this good in a long time and as the grease dripped from her fingers; she sucked at them, scorched and sticky, and licked her lips.

With one hand to the blackened, bubbling pork skin and her teeth pulling at the meat flaking loose, she remembered suddenly where she was and looked up at the man looking down at her. Hunger and cold now relieved, she wasn't as frightened. He seemed less threatening now that he was sitting too. But she was still his prisoner. Her eyes met his. He had been watching her as she ate. Embarrassed and suddenly very self-conscious, she felt the meat juices dribbling down her chin, wiped her mouth on her arm and asked, "Aren't you eating?" she surprised him.

He had been hypnotised watching her eat, wondering how could anything so mundane seem so erotic. He had long forgotten human behaviours. He doubted whether she was even aware of making those little moans of pleasure as she chewed the meat he'd supplied. Her eyes were half closed with desire as she bit into the flesh. When she'd licked her fingers he held in an unnecessary breath, desire of another sort ran through his mind.

His face softened with an expression of amused contentment. "I have already eaten," he nodded. "Take as much as you want. It may be awhile before you get more." His voice had gentled now, "Do you need to drink?" He lifted one eyebrow; sending a bolt of unexplained warmth through her.

She flushed and quickly looked down, chewing at her lip. "Yes, please. I'm very thirsty". Then with a barely audible whisper she added, "My name is Susanna." She picked up the meat quickly, to avoid looking at him.

"The river isn't far, Susanna. I'll take you down there when you've finished eating." As he spoke her name he added a hint of seduction, enjoying the confusion it created in her. Finding himself strangely addicted to her blushes, he continued teasing her. His eyebrow rose a little further and he chuckled. "But are you sure you have room left?" She had a nervous habit of nibbling her bottom lip that he also found strangely endearing.

She peeped up at him. "I haven't eaten anything this delicious in months, thank you," she said. She was also trying to ignore the violent insistence of her bladder, triggered by the mention of the river. She smiled, trying a different tact, determined to be polite. "Sir, may I ask, how did I come to be in your company? Do you know what happened last evening? And please - can you take me back to my father?" She paused, looking out at the trees, her eyes narrowed and her face tense. Then she said, "And is there anywhere I can relieve myself in private, most urgently?" She tried to smile again to hide her embarrassment, but failed miserably and bit her lip.

He grinned. He'd forgotten about that particular human need. Of course it had been centuries since he had needed to think of his bladder. Watching her intently only served to make her blush further but he had no objection to that. She was blushing furiously now as she avoided his gaze. "Very well," he said, clearly amused. "We'll go down to the river now. You can relieve your discomfort there." He walked over and took her hand, the other held the cloak in a tight grip.

As they neared the waters edge, he turned her to him, his hands on her shoulders. His eyes stared into hers. "I can move faster than you could possibly believe," he said. "And I have no objection to chasing you through water. I dislike unnecessary exertion, but I enjoy hunting a worthy quarry. Don't test me." He took the cloak from her shoulders and turned her to the water.

She would not let him know how scared she felt and she held her head high, her back straight as she walked slowly into the water. It was cold, but not freezing. "Could you at least give me some privacy and turn your back?" she asked.

"Don't be a fool," said Eric. "If you irritate me, I shall kill you at once."

She let the water lap at her chest as she took her relief. She gently washed the cut on her breast, which stung at the contact. But she kept her eyes on him, very slowly, she moved upstream against the current.

Eric watched her, smiling. "Absurdly obvious," he laughed.

"You can't blame me for trying." She glared at him in frustration, and stomped back to where her cloak lay. "What do you want with me?" she asked as she wrapped the cloak around her, rubbing her arms to get warm.

"Strive to please me, and I may delay killing you." He paused. "Though of course, I may not." He stretched a long fingered hand, cupping her chin, tilting her face up from the shadows. "Susanna doesn't do you justice, I shall call you Sookie, as you are always sulking," he chuckled.

With a sudden rush, Eric slipped both arms beneath her, lifting her up against him. One hand sweeping beneath her knees, the other under her arms, he cradled her very tenderly to the wide silk shirted strength of his chest. She had no further ability to struggle but when she turned her head aside, he pressed her cheek to him again, firm against his breast.

"Close your eyes Sookie." He lowered his face to hers and lightly kissed the tip of her nose. Before she could regain her breath, she saw that they were somehow in the air. She gasped as everything rushed past her at such a speed she couldn't see where they were. Cloud and vapour blurred her sight and the cold stung her face, but she knew they were flying. She thought she had gone mad, but then the vast pearly gleam of the moon filled her vision as the mists dissipated, and she closed her eyes to stop the nausea, clinging to him in terror. She could no longer feel her feet for they were so frozen, but gradually where Eric held her she felt strangely safe and warm.