Chapter 1

Pamela Swynford de Beaufort sat at the bar in Fangtasia, idly reading on her tablet. Fangtasia hadn't yet opened tonight, and Eric was busy in his office – so Pam was forced to entertain herself. She clicked into the Apollonian Press site, which happened to be Pam's favorite. It was controversial, unbiased, and uncensored.

The biggest draw to the Apollonian Press was the "Oracle". She – well, it was assumed that the Oracle was a she, but no-one knew for sure. The Oracle was a completely anonymous reporter traveling the country on reporting on stories she found interesting. Seemingly mundane topics, small-town stories all spun into intriguing articles that actually inspired action. A death-row inmate she'd written about two months ago had his case re-opened and was acquitted a mere six days before his scheduled execution. A company who had been dumping toxic waste into a town's water source was shut down and its executives charged with gross misconduct.

The Oracle's column was Pam's favorite as well – it was juicy, honest, and sort of bitchy. She had even called people morons in her articles, which immediately endeared her to Pam, but also likely made her some dangerous enemies.

The Oracle's icon on the website – laurels behind a woman's silhouette – glowed red against the site's cream-colored background, signifying the Oracle had posted a new article. Pam quickly clicked on it, eager for her newest fix. "No fucking way," Pam remarked dryly when she read the article's title – 'The Bon Temps Killings'.

She stood as she began to skim the article, her feet taking her down the hallway to Eric's office. Pam entered without knocking, much to her maker's irritation. She handed him her tablet without ceremony. "I assume you've heard of the Apollonian Press?" Pam asked.

Eric's brows furrowed as he looked at the screen. "Yes, of course. It's the most popular growing online news press in the US," he answered absently, already beginning to read through the text.

"Well, the Oracle's done us one hell of a favor," Pam retorted, hands on her hips.

Eric was silent for a few moments, reading the article thoroughly. Once done, he set the tablet down on the desk in front of him. "What I find more concerning is that she cites anonymous vampire sources." Eric said grimly. "She's here in my area, and someone talked. Call a meeting. I want every vampire in the Area here tonight," he ordered.

The reporter sat at Merlotte's bar, nursing her third or fourth shot. Her mind was already pleasantly fuzzy. She only indulged in alcohol on the night one of her articles came out. So she wouldn't have to think about how the public would respond. She didn't want to know, didn't really care. It was the investigation she liked, the thrill of the hunt, so to speak.

The bar's proprietor, Sam Merlotte, stood in front of her on the other side of the bar, drying a glass. It was late, only about a half-hour before last call. Only she and Sam were left in the bar. He eyed the reporter curiously. "Do you think you can tell me your name now?" he asked unexpectedly. The reporter flashed him a reproachful look. "What's the harm? I already know you're the Oracle," he continued, pouring her another shot when she gestured to the empty glass. He'd been taking shots with her, but he'd stopped somewhere around the second or third.

She gave him a hard look. "Cassandra," she said grudgingly.

Sam rolled his eyes. "There's no reason to lie," he said.

"Can't help it," she retorted, throwing back her shot.

"Try." Sam requested.

The reporter leaned in, and Sam couldn't help but follow suit. "I'll tell you my name if you promise not to tell a soul," she whispered.

"Promise." Sam agreed eagerly. First, she tapped her nail on her empty shot glass. Sam sighed and poured another shot. "Maybe you should think about slowing down,"

The reporter merely flashed him a sulky look before throwing her fifth shot back. "The name's Indie," she finally tells him, her words starting to slur.

Sam smiled. "I like it. Indie," he said, testing it out. Indie slid her shot glass back towards him. He sighed. "This is the last one and I'm cutting you off," he warned, pouring the shot. Indie snorted, snatched the glass and threw it back. "Shouldn't you be happy? The police have already released Jason Stackhouse. You've exonerated him and vampires in general," Sam asked, pouring himself a shot.

Indie snorted. "Want to hear another secret, Sam Merlotte?" she slurred. Sam nodded after he took the shot. "My work is dangerous." She started. "Especially in tiny towns like this. I'm the only other new person in town besides the Vampire Bill."

"So?" Sam asked, beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol he'd ingested.

"So I'm on the killer's radar now, if I wasn't before. So that's why I'm right here," Indie said, gesturing at the bar in front of her. "In public. Not alone. He can't get me if I'm not alone,"

"I won't let him hurt you," Sam promised.

"How are you going to do that?" Indie asked. "Stay with me all night?"

"If I must," Sam responded, his heated eyes catching hers.

Half an hour later, Sam and Indie drunkenly stumbled out the back of the bar and towards his trailer – oblivious to the eyes on them.

Eric Northman stood on his stage at Fangtasia, before all the vampires in his area. They had all assembled within two hours, murmuring amongst themselves. They wondered why they had been called.

Eric held up Pam's tablet, showing the homepage of the Apollonian Press website. "According to the newest article published by the Oracle, 'An anonymous vampire source stated that a vampire would consider that a great waste as well as find it very difficult to curb their appetite and not consume the blood.'" Eric quoted, lifting his eyes from the tablet to the vampires before him. "Someone spoke to this reporter. I demand to know who." he commanded.

Pam stepped onto the stage to stand at her maker's side. "Confess now and all you will lose are your fangs," she said in a monotone voice, her hands on her hips.

After a moment, a young vampire of only fifty years stepped forward, away from the others. His name was Kai, a young man (when he was turned) of Hawaiian descent. Eric had known him to be kind, if not naïve – he immediately knew that Kai had spoken in innocence, not of malicious intent.

"Show him to my office, Pam." Eric ordered, and the two vampires quickly moved down through Fangtasia and into the offices. He turned his gaze back towards the other vampires assembled before him. "And there is no-one else that spoke to a human about the murders in Bon Temps?" he asked.

All the others shook their heads, but one female vampire did step forward. Vittoria – one of few vampires in Eric's area that he respected for pure integrity. "I promise, on my honor, that I have spoken to no such human," she stated, her Italian accent still thick.

Vittoria was over six hundred years old (and nearly sixty when she'd been turned), but she had not left her native Italy until fifteen years ago, when she came to live in Eric's area. Eric had once asked her why she'd chosen to come to Shreveport of all places, and her answer had been simple. Vittoria has been trying to track down her descendants for ages, and had finally tracked them to this area. After the Great Revelation, she'd been able to approach the family and become a part of it. Vittoria had everything she wanted, so Eric could trust her ambitions – or lack thereof.

"I never doubted you, Vittoria," Eric responded, curious as to why she had spoken.

"I have a theory to express," she stated, stepping free of the crowd to approach him. Eric impatiently gestured for the other vampires to leave, and they did with great eagerness. He stepped down to the stage near her. "It may be baseless, Sheriff," Vittoria admitted.

"If you deem it important, I would hear it," Eric replied.

Vittoria inclined her head, acknowledging the esteem in his words. "Kai may have spoken to a human, but it does not necessarily mean it was the Oracle. I enter another theory," she began. "Perhaps the Oracle is a vampire, and is unable to admit it publicly – and she knows what she wrote through personal experience," Vittoria suggested.

"It is a stretch," Eric admitted, taking it into consideration.

"But not impossible." Vittoria interjected.

"But we will never know if we do not find the Oracle," he retorted. Vittoria nodded in understanding, and began to leave. "Vittoria," he called, making her pause. "I greatly appreciate your respect and integrity," she merely inclined her head again. "You know, Pamela has always hated being my official second-in-command. If I were to release her of the position, would you be interested?" Eric asked.

Vittoria's brows furrowed in surprise. "I would be honored to, Sheriff, but there are other vampires more deserving than I," she replied.

"Ah, but I trust your integrity far more than I trust their ambition," Eric retorted.

"As you wish, Sheriff," Vittoria said. It was clear she was not displeased, by the little smile that toyed at her lips.

"Please return tomorrow evening before Fangtasia opens so we may discuss your duties," Eric requested. She inclined her head again before leaving.

Finally, Eric headed for his office where Pam and Kai waited for him. "You-" he pointed to the young vampire, "-will help us find the Oracle," Eric concluded with a grin.

Here's the second chapter! Please Review!

edited 1/12/17