AN: Okay, so the next two chapters are going to be a little weird in means of dividing them up. At first I had them as one, but then decided it would be way too long if I left them like that. And since I know some of you are curious, more information on Evelyn will be coming within the next few chapters, promise! Keep reviewing guys! I love to read your thoughts on the story.
Oh, and to sj61 – this isn't my first fanfic ever, but it's the first one I've done in a while. I'm glad you like it. :)
I had the next two nights off. I imagined it was because Jessica was definitely working the next two nights, and Sam tried to keep us separated as much as possible. He didn't know why I suddenly wanted to get away from vampires, but he respected my decision. I think a part of him approved of it. He had never really liked me consorting with vampires. So he was probably doing his best to keep me as far away from the fanged variety as possible so I didn't change my mind. Well, nice try Sam, but it was a little too late for that. After last night, it seemed inevitable that I would soon be spiraling back into a world full of vampires, werewolves, and just supes in general.
Evelyn didn't come for those two nights. Curled up on my couch with my latest check out from the library, I stared blankly at the page. She said she was there to protect me, but I wasn't quite sure how she could do that when she wasn't even around. Why did demons want me, anyway? In my tired mental stupor last night I hadn't pushed the vampire on answering the questions for me. She had been vague about the whole thing. How very vampire like of her, I thought grimly to myself. I also didn't have any way to contact her. She could have skipped town and I wouldn't know any better. Several times I had scanned the area around my house with my mind, searching for any sort of sign that someone was out there watching over me – or just plan watching me. There was none, as far as I could tell, which was relieving and mildly upsetting at the same time.
I tried to keep myself from worrying too much. I stayed busy with my extra days, doing chores around the house as well as in town. I had spent some time in Gran's gardens because I just didn't have the heart to let them go. My Grandmother had adored those gardens, and I thought of them as a pleasant memory of her. It was important to me to use my limited gardening knowledge to keep them alive. I bought groceries in town, got new books from the library, and even rented a movie. I spent a little bit of time sunbathing, although a cold front had been moving through and I hadn't been able to stay out as long as I normally did. Boy did I love the sun though. Sunbathing was a great relaxation technique for me, and by golly it sure did make me feel better. All the worries about my problems had evaporated with the sunlight on my skin, and I was able to go for a few hours afterward without thinking about them. Unfortunately they had started to creep back into my mind, starting with Evelyn's absence, and now it was impossible for me to even concentrate on my book. I sighed and set it down on the coffee table. Well so much for that.
I rubbed my temples gently, wishing I could massage thoughts out of my brain. I didn't want to think about Bill and his screwed up sense of heroism. I didn't want to think about the demon Luke, and ponder what exactly he wanted with me. I didn't want to think about whom he could possibly work for; who could possibly want me now? Russell Edgington could be his "master", since the vampire king had a deep interest in me. I figured that he would have come himself though, like he did the last time. Granted, he did send a couple of werewolves under his command to try and get me first, but when they proved to be unsuccessful I guess he just figured he'd try it himself. He might be a bit busy at the moment though, considering that he had pissed off the entire vampire community – or at least the ones who wanted to mainstream. Frowning to myself, I felt a little pang in my heart. There were other reasons he might be too busy to come snatch me himself.
The memory of being bitten by Russell was something that my mind tried to lock away – a painful experience that I subconsciously wanted to protect myself from. Still, from time to time it broke out of its cage and sneak attacked me, and I couldn't help but mull over it time and time again. This was mostly because I still had no real answers for what happened. Sure, Bill had desperately tried to justify his actions to me in Fangtasia, saying that he was helping Eric set up Russell to get killed. But Bill was not my issue in that whole affair, or not my major one. I had known before the incident at Fangtasia that Bill was slowly proving to me that I couldn't trust him. Fangtasia had just been the final straw with me. I accepted that Bill could no longer be the big part of my life that I wanted to be, so it wasn't Bill that I was thinking about.
I remember Russell telling him to bite first – probably to make sure my blood wasn't poisoned or something. I remember the regret in his eyes, the hesitance. It was his failure to act that I guess made Russell a bit impatient. Eric bit my neck then, stroking my hair. In hindsight, I identified the movement as an attempt to soothe me. He hadn't wanted to do it, but he did. Then he braved the sunlight, drawing out Russell and trying to kill him with the vampire's natural enemy. He had sacrificed himself to kill Russell – a man who would have undoubtedly killed me if he hadn't been manipulated. And now Eric was somewhere with the Mississippi King right now, if he hadn't already met the "true death". I was filled with a variety of emotions, the strongest one being confusion. I tried to understand his actions; his reasons behind them, but I didn't have a solid answer. I realized that was what I needed – an answer.
Standing up, I went into my bedroom and changed out of my sweats. I slipped into a pair of jeans and the first t-shirt I could find. Oddly enough, that t-shirt just so happened to be the Fangtasia one I had gotten some time back. I didn't spend time contemplating the chances of that, and finished putting on a bit of makeup. Walking out with a purpose, I grabbed my car keys and locked the house behind me.
I was thankful that no cops were on the roads I was driving on. At the speed I was going, I deserved to get pulled over. In my mind it was justified, but I was sure my reasons wouldn't impress any officer. I was nervous for the whole drive, tapping on the brakes whenever I saw a car outline looking anything like that of a cop car. As soon as my fear was put to rest, I would return my foot to the gas pedal.
I made it to Shreveport in record time. I said a silent apology to God for breaking the law. I was surprised to see the parking lot of Fangtasia full. I don't know what else I was expecting, really. I guess I just thought of the vampire bar being an impossibility without Eric.
Pam was at the front door, dressed in a black leather costume. She was doing her usual job – checking the IDs of humans and acting like the stereotypical bloodsucker in the process. The tourists and fang bangers alike loved the whole spectacle, apparently. I didn't really understand it myself.
As I sheepishly inched to the front of the line, Pam spotted me. I almost turned around and left when I saw the look on her face. She definitely did not look happy to see me. "Did Eric call you?" she asked me angrily. Before I could even think of an answer, she rambled on. "I told him it was too soon to see you. He needs to get stronger first. It was foolish of him to summon you like this. He's risking his own life, as well as yours." Her concern for my life was an afterthought and not wholly meaningful.
I felt like she had just slammed me upside the head with a baseball bat. I held up hands up in a motion to keep her from speaking further. "Whoa, whoa, Pam," I said. I stared at her incredulously. "Eric didn't call me."
She gave me a bewildered look. "Then why are you here?" she asked, genuinely curious. She ignored the line of people waiting for admission, and I could tell from their thoughts that they were both interested and annoyed by our conversation. None of them dared to complain though.
For a second I had to scrounge my thoughts to remember why I was there. "Um, I came to ask if there was any news about him – Eric," I said. As if she thought I were talking about anyone else. "He's here? Eric's back? Why didn't anyone tell me?" Even if I was in a bit of a daze, I still managed to be irritated.
Pam's eyes narrowed. "He came back last night," she said, shushing any annoyance I had about not being informed. "He had been asleep in some sort of dungeon Russell had been torturing him in. When he awakened, the silver chains he had been bound with were cut. There was no one watching him, so he managed to sneak away." Talking about Eric's escape made her very happy. She was glad to have her master back. The bond between a maker and his child was one that I (hopefully) would never truly understand, but I knew that it was powerful. And whether they wanted to admit it or not, love played a part in it.
"Is he here?" I asked. I didn't really know much about Eric, but whenever I was summoned (a.k.a forced) to see him, it had always been at Fangtasia. What did Eric do in his spare time anyway? My mind automatically flickered to the time I had barged into the basement of the bar to see him erm, having relations with Yvette. That was the first time I had seen Eric completely in the nude. It was not a sight that I'd soon forget.
Pam seemed to be deciding whether it was a good idea for me to see him or not. "Yes," she said finally. She motioned for me to follow her and she made her way to the inside of the bar. The people in line had started groaning and whispering complaints, but a single look from Pam quickly silenced them. Once we were inside, she made a motion to some vampire standing nearby. He went outside, presumably to take her place as the admittance committee. "This isn't a good idea, but he would be extremely aggravated with me if I shooed you away when you came on your own free will." She sighed dramatically.
I had assumed that Eric would be replaced on his throne, looking very much like a King (or a God), gazing out over the variety of people that made their way into his bar every night. But the throne was empty. I was filled with a strong sense of unease then. I was afraid of where exactly Pam was going to take me for a minute, until she knocked on one of the doors towards the back of the bar. It was Eric's office.
She listened and then held up a hand to me. "Stay," she ordered, as if she were speaking to a puppy she was training. I obeyed, and when Pam slipped through the door, I wondered if she was an animal person. Somehow I didn't think so.
She was only in there a minute before the door opened again, and she reemerged. "You can go in now," she told me. Another girl had exited with her, one that wasn't exactly dressed and was holding a towel to her neck. It hadn't taken Eric long to return to his usual routine.
I stayed where I was for a second after Pam and Eric's little companion had gone, staring at the door that was still slightly ajar. Now that I was there and now knew that Eric was more or less alive and well, I reconsidered this whole visit. Despite everything, I never wanted Eric to be dead. I was still extremely mad at him and would probably bash his head in with a rock if I knew it would do me any good, but death was something I would never wish on him. Part of me knew that was exactly what I should want – I shouldn't give a hell about his wellbeing. I shouldn't care for him in the way that I knew I did. He had some effect on me that infuriated me and that I blamed completely on the blood bond he forced me into. Deep down, I knew better. But there was no way I was going to admit that to anyone – most of all Eric.
Composing myself, I walked through the door. His office was large, and neat. The walls had pictures of famous vampires on them, like out in the bar. There was a filing cabinet in the corner, and a couch on the opposite wall. Behind the desk there was a small refrigerator. And then there was the desk itself. The desk with various things on top of it, like papers and a lamp. It was a desk that had a big, blonde Viking vampire sitting behind it. The Viking was staring at me with those intense, beautiful eyes of his.
I was trying not to look at him, or at least not stare. I failed miserably. Eric was still gorgeous, his blonde hair falling around his face in a way that made him look like he was a model posing. He wasn't even trying, of course. His giant body was fitted with a white button-up shirt that wasn't buttoned all the way and jeans. He was leaning back in his chair casually, watching me just as intently as I was him. "Eric," I said, struggling to form words. I rubbed my lips together nervously. "You look like crap." I instantly felt bad for saying it, but after getting over the literal shock I felt from how damn attractive he managed to be, I noticed that he wasn't completely himself. He had the look of someone who was recovering from the flu – still a bit sickly and tired. For a vampire, that was considered rough shape. I didn't want to know what he looked like when he escaped last night.
He didn't smile, just kept looking at me. "Your presence is always a pleasure Ms. Stackhouse," he said sarcastically, and then I watched his eyes move from my face to the rest of me. "I appreciate the free advertisement, but that shirt doesn't show off your assets at all." Eric might not be smiling, but I gave a small one. In a not very subtle manner, he was telling me that I also looked less of a vision than usual. That Eric. What a charmer.
A silence fell between us then. We didn't stop looking at each other. Both of us seemed to be at a loss for what to say. I hadn't exactly anticipated him being here. If I had known that, I would have given this whole trip a bit more thought. Or maybe I wouldn't have. I wasn't really sure what I would do about anything relating to Mr. Northman at the moment.
After a while, I figured I might as well talk first. I was the one who had come uninvited, after all. I started with a lame conversation opener. "Pam said you escaped from Russell."
His expression didn't change. "For now," he said, giving me an ominous feeling. "He'll come for me again, eventually." Eric obviously wasn't relying on optimism. That was something I had always respected about Eric, no matter what other problems I had with his personality. He had a strong hold on reality, and didn't bother sugarcoating anything.
"Why didn't he kill you?" I asked, aware that I wasn't exactly making this a pleasant conversation for him. But my curiosity was too persistent to ignore. I had never really considered the possibility that Russell would keep Eric alive for more than half a year. These past six months weren't exactly easy for me, but they must have been a nightmare for Eric.
"I took the one thing that he loved more than anything in the world away from him," Eric explained. "He wanted me to suffer for as long as possible, although I think he was getting rather bored by the time I escaped. I was lucky." He looked thoughtful.
"Who cut the chains?" I asked, knowing that I was only going to keep getting Eric's cooperation for a little bit longer. He'd get sick of my questions eventually and simply stop answering them or change the subject.
"I have no idea." That really bothered him. Someone had saved him, and he had no idea who it was. He owed someone, somewhere, a favor. Eric was the one who enjoyed being owed favors, not the other way around. He also liked to be in control – to know more than the other guy. Right about now I think it was safe to say that the Viking was absolutely clueless about what was going on. "Why'd you come, Sookie?" he asked me, and I tensed up a bit.
"I came to talk to Pam – to ask her how we could get you back, whether she knew if you were even alive." There was no point in lying. Eric had been truthful with me, and I had to return the favor.
He was in front of me before my eyes could even catch the movement. I gasped, instinctively moving backward. Eric moved with me, so there was no distance gained between us. He towered over me, looking down at me with a smoldering gaze that practically made me melt. "Why?" he asked, his voice a whisper. I noticed for the first time that his shirt wasn't just not buttoned up all the way - it wasn't buttoned at all. The white fabric seemed to be framing his perfect abs in the most teasing way possible, drawing my eyes from his pecs and abs to the line of blonde hair going south from his naval.
Oh, Lord.