A/N: Once again thanks so much for the reviews. It pleases me to no end to know that this story is being read and enjoyed and each installment is highly looked forward to. Without further ado, here is the fourth chapter. Once again if you have the time to pen a review, it'd be greatly appreciated! What did you like about the chapter/story, how'd it make you feel, favorite parts/quotes, constructive critiques if applicable, etc...these are what authors love.

Happy reading!

That night after the club had closed and all had been taken care of, Ginger and the rest of the staff had departed, Tara was still reeling in shock from seeing Naomi. She had never forgotten the one who had been her first female lover and though the majority of their relationship had been had been built on lies from Tara's end – the love and their feelings for each other had been real. It had crushed her inside to end things so abruptly and it was then the baby vampire's thoughts drifted to the events surrounding the last time she'd seen Naomi, when she had to say goodbye to her girl.

Because of Pam.

Tara shook her head as a dry, humorless chuckle escaped her lips. How much things had changed in such a short amount of time. Less than a year later and she had become the one thing she had hated the most. And she was in love with someone who had tried more than once to kill her. She could still remember the chilling words uttered by her current beloved in the parking lot of Merlottes – "It may be ten minutes from now or ten years. The moment you think you are safe I promise I will hunt you down and fucking shred you like confetti." Her mind replayed then what had happened between her and Naomi in her blue truck and Naomi's last words to her after she had all but broken the girl's heart – "You're going to regret this." And her response – "I already do."

A shudder passed through Tara's body. God this was crazy!

Pam sauntered into their quarters then, her hair a tumble of flaxen waves that kissed her terry cloth clad shoulders. Her eyes fell immediately on her progeny. "What's the matter with you?"

Tara shook her head as she replied rather hoarsely, "Just got a lot on my mind."

"Yeah, I kinda guessed that," Pam deadpanned, tapping the center of her chest to indicate the hum of the bond, "Care to cut to the chase sugar? I want to shower some time before sunrise."

The ebony skinned vampire sighed, her hands falling into her lap, her jet black hair shielding her face as she lowered her head. Like Pam, she didn't like to show her emotions but unlike her Maker she didn't yet possess the skill to hide them too well, and that coupled with the bond thrumming between her and her and Pam, made it almost impossible to hide how she was really feeling from the blonde.

"Spit it out," Pam prompted impatiently, the dry tone belying her own growing anxiety. She didn't like the despondent look on Tara's face and the tumult of emotions playing hopscotch through the bond from her progeny's end did nothing to help her unease. Not to mention that quaint little visit from the ghost of girlfriends' past and Pam had no idea what might come spilling out of Tara's cocoa dusted mouth.

"Do you love me?" the four words were whispered almost reluctantly, as if the baby vampire wanted to reel them back in before they could meet their intended target. Pam's eyes widened slightly but besides that she gave no outward evidence that her Child's words had affected her.

"Come again?"

Tara's brows furrowed at the hesitation, rising from where she had been sitting on the edge of her mahogany wood coffin, folded her arms under her chest, and glared at her Maker. "I ain't stutter."

"I heard you perfectly. Allow me to clarify," Pam drawled, throwing a hand on her hip, "Where did that question come from?"

"The hell does it matter where it came from, just answer it," Tara countered, her voice rising as her tone deepened in anger, "I want to hear you say it."

It took everything within Pam to maintain her signature glare while she wondered where all of this was coming from. There was something else in the bond coming from Tara's end that she hadn't picked up on when she had first entered their sleeping quarters and now it was screaming out loud and clear. Her progeny was angry. It was all in the bond and all in her face. Contrary to what Tara may have thought, she wore her expression decidedly easily and even if she kept mum over what exactly was bothering her – which was a rare occasion entirely – the world could see when she was upset. It was something Pam had meant to school out of her. It was very dangerous for a vampire to be so emotional when there were plenty older and stronger vampires who viewed emotion as weakness and could very manipulate things to suite their favor. But now, that little fact couldn't take precedence not when all of the simmering anger Tara was throwing out was being directed toward Pam.

"Things don't have to be spoken on for them to exist." It was a line Eric had used on her when he'd left to fight in World War I. It had been the first time he had left her for a period of time since she had been turned. It had appeased her. But she had been so different from Tara.

"What the fuck does that mean?" her incensed progeny barked, "You can't say it, can you?"

Where was this coming from? She had told Tara she had loved her before. Once. And they'd both been rather intoxicated with relief that neither of them had met their True Death but it had been clear at the time that particular event was closer than eminent. Who knew when they would see each other again, or if they would see each other again with the speed at which those breathers were gunning for their heads. Those could have very well been the last words she had spoken to her progeny. But now? Now, things were good. The war was over. Humans had gone back to their rightful place, below vampires. Neither of them was dying tonight. Why did Tara have to be reassured of her affections? Why now of all times?

Pam strolled lazily toward her Child, tossing her hair over her shoulder as her face slipped into an expression that was just as comfortable and familiar as a human's exhale. A small smile tugged at the corners of her plump pink lips and she settled down on the mahogany coffin. She crossed one of her legs over the other, placing both of her hands on either side of her, and regarded Tara with an expectant eye.

"Come here."

The two words took on the properties of a siren song that Tara was hopeless to obey. Her body all but crumpled as she sat beside her Maker, allowing Pam's arms to wrap themselves around her shoulders, pulling her to her ample breasts. This was the first time she'd felt her Maker's embrace in months, the first time in a long while she was close enough for her senses to be ensnared by the bewitching aromas of lavender and wild rose that seem to ooze from Pam's pores. She hadn't ever known anything that had been more perfect. Not with Sam. Not with Eggs. Not with Nao-

Naomi.

The sudden feel of Pam's cool lips against the thin skin of her throat had Tara sucking in a gasp of unnecessary air, her head falling to the side to give her Maker better access to the sensitive pulse point that had always been one of her spots since she had discovered sex could feel good. Pam's gripped tightened as she continued to lavish lazy kisses along Tara's neck, down to her collarbone where she nipped sharply, eliciting a groan from cocoa lips.

As Pam's hands went for the waistband of her mesh shorts and her fangs descended with a solid click, Tara's head was swirling with delicious delirium. But something in this moment felt wrong. Squirming under her Maker's touch, Tara took in a few pulls of air. "What are you doin'?" she ground out, her voice hoarse, tone gone several octaves higher.

"Answering your question sugar," Pam drawled in a sultry cadence that went straight to Tara's core.

"How?"

"More like an 'I can show you better than I can tell you' type of thing. Now, stop talking and lie back."

Tara shook her head, the looseness in her muscles fading faster than stars at sunrise. "That ain't it," she groused, pushing her Maker away from her, "And you can't just use sex to get what you want. You ain't a prostitute no more. Get off."

Pam's deep blue eyes widened and her hands stilled. "What - ?"

"Get off of me," Tara's tone hardened as she shook herself from her Maker's grasp, "Don't touch me."

Pam watched in disbelief as Tara climbed into her coffin, blood tears welling in her obsidian eyes as she shut the lid, anger and sadness coursing like silver bullets through the bond.