Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the television show, True Blood, or the book series by Charlaine Harris. I do, however, own all characters that were not in or mentioned in the show/books.


Chapter Four

Moving on is a simple thing.
What it leaves behind is hard.

David Mustaine


The seconds leading up to the explosion had been the quietest seconds of Cormac's existence. The dumb human stood no more than 50 feet in front of him with some short of homemade bomb strapped to his chest. Only the bomb was rigged with bits and pieces of silver, designed to inflict as much damage on vampires as possible.

The explosion itself had been oddly beautiful. Hues of red filled the air just before he was pushed to the ground from the force of the explosion. The smell of blood was everywhere making Cormac very aroused and very hungry.

Slowly, he pulled himself out from the rubble, dirty and bruised. A sharp pain in his shoulder announced its presence as he tried to dust himself off. The vampire waited impatiently for the silver shrapnel to push itself from his body. Once it fell into his hand, he threw the small piece down and surveyed the damage around him.

Godric's house, which had once stood around him in its splendor, had been demolished from the inside out. Sparks of electricity flickered off in the corner of the house. The lights were dimmed, no doubt from the power outlets and overhead lights that had been scorched or damaged. The stupid human had succeeded in killing not only himself buy also many prominent vampires from the area. The remains were beginning to disintegrate right before his very eyes. What once was pale marble like flesh was slowly turning into the dark gray mush. Vampires who had faired the explosion were helping others who were less fortunate, but Cormac couldn't help by gawk at the scene around him.

His super hearing picked up the sounds of sirens miles away, which meant more humans were approaching. At the moment he was a little weary of the disgusting creatures. Cormac hissed in anger, feeing the need to destroy something, anything—preferably human.

He thought back to the church, where the vampires nearly started an all out war with the humans. No, where they should have started a war.

Filthy pieces of shit.

He replayed the scene over and over again in his mind. The sound of the girl he grabbed whimpering excited him. Her blood had been different, mystical, but most importantly, delicious. When Godric commanded the vampires to stop their attack, it took everything Cormac had to pull away from the girl. She was different, and he craved to have her blood inside of him, more than anyone before.

The smell of ash brought Cormac back to his current situation. Some of his associates and close friends had been killed in the blast. He stumbled out of the house haphazardly and into the street, away from the death and destruction. He needed to get away from the carnage and wreckage that stood before him. His house was only a mile or so away and he could be there within a minute or so.

Just before he took off, the shadow of an approaching creature caught his attention. His keen eyesight took in the character, but as it passed under a nearby streetlight he got a better view of its silver skin and unusual features. Cormac took in a deep breath, pulling in the scent of the creature. His senses told him that the man was neither human nor vampire.

The creature was easily 6'0" if not taller. Broad shoulders and a slim build were covered in a dark gray trench coat that fell just below its shins. Dark black books peaked out from under black dress slacks. The creature's hair was a captivating mixture of brown and auburn hues that mixed together so seamlessly, Cormac wasn't sure what color it really was. It fell perfectly straight down to the middle of its back. High cheekbones framed a pointed nose that gave off an air of aristocracy. Long black eyelashes accentuated the orbs of gold that they surrounded, making its gaze fierce and piercing.

Cormac had no idea what was standing before him, but he knew that he did not want to be on its bad side.

"You have tasted the blood of a girl, have you not?" From the depth of the voice, Cormac knew that his companion was male. The words drifted through the hair with a hint of evil attached to each syllable. Cormac was almost impressed.

The air around him sizzled with electricity telling Cormac that the creature before him possessed some sort of magic. No human could look, let alone make him feel this way.

"I have," he said tentatively.

Cormac was on guard, unsure of the man's intentions.

"Would you like to taste her blood again?" A smile flashed across the creature's features. It was gone before either could say anything.

Cormac's fangs popped. The thought of the girl squirming against him was enough to get him excited and forget the threat the creature before him possessed.

"I would," he growled.

"Come with me," the creature offered, his voice calm but also commanding. "If you do, I will give you all that you ask for."

And more, was the hidden ending.

A sense of yearning washed over Cormac like never before. The offer was becoming more and more attractive as he mulled over it, replaying the way her body squirmed against his, the sound of her blood pumping loudly in his ears.

Cormac didn't look back as he followed the man away from the destroyed house, leaving everyone behind. He was unaware of the man's plan for him, but if it meant tasting her sweet blood again he would do anything.


It had been two months since the awful event at our old church. Needless to say, that spring night was a revelation of sorts. The following months had consisted of uprooting from Dallas and moving to Shreveport, LA, five incredibly boring and useless therapy sessions, and two deep conversations with my parents about my mental health. My parents were under the impression that I was going to go coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs at any moment due to the "stress of my attack." Blah, blah, blah… I had become so numb to their concern that I no longer cared to listen.

Mom was really the main driving force behind my visits to a psychotherapist for family sessions. Each of these sessions would consist of the therapist asking me to explain my feelings toward the event as well as toward vampires. And every time, I would reply, "I'm fine. I'm over what happened." I could tell in her eyes that she never believed me, but I could also tell that she was carrying a boatload of guilt on her shoulders.

Things were different since that day. I learned how fragile life was and how with one clamp of the jaw it can be taken away. Now I didn't rebel and party with booze and drugs, but I loosened up a little bit after that. It was a confusing situation to be put in. On the one hand, a disgusting vampire had attacked me. After that, I should have detested vampires as a whole, but after Godric spoke up and saved the whole congregation I was unsure. A vampire had showed compassion and as a result I was still alive.

Before the great reveal, I never believed in the things that go bump at night. I laughed at horror movies and dismissed urban legends thinking that they were just silly creations from a creative mind. Then the vampires stepped out of the shadows and admitted their existence. To say that the world was turned upside down would be an understatement. Things were down right screwed up.

Truly, I was. Other than the nightmares—which I had kept on the hush hush—the attack at the church really hadn't affected me all that much (or so I wished). Every night I dreamt about the creepy vampire who bit me. Some nights were better than other; the best nights were the ones where I dreamt of the delightful Eric, who for some reason was absolutely fascinating to me. While I never really got to see his face all that well, his blonde hair stood out to me most. It also didn't hurt that his body looked to die for in his leather jacket. Most nights, unfortunately, involved waking up covered in sweat with a racing heart. When I heard about the bombing in Dallas, I was hopeful that Mr. Creepster had been killed. I would even go as far as to say that I hoped he suffered a horribly long and painful death.

I yawned loudly into my coffee cup, which served as an acknowledgement that I definitely was not experiencing good quality sleep.

Shortly after the bombing, Dad, who is an English professor, transferred to Centenary College in Shreveport, LA. He claimed he didn't like Dallas anymore, but I believed he was doing it for Mom. She had a lot of guilt from putting our lives in danger. We both tried to convince her that it wasn't her fault and that there was no way she could have known just how fanatical the church really was. Mom never believed us. She just kept saying, "I almost lost you, Maggie." Nowadays, my mother could almost be described as a stage-five clinger. Everywhere I went she was either calling me or offering to go with. I felt like I never had any free time.

Now that it was May, I had decided that it was time to move on and live a normal life. And normal to me meant finding an apartment of my own where free time would be abundant.

I sat my coffee cup down in the sink before slipping into the guest room, which was temporarily being used for my room. At 21, nearly 22, I was definitely ready to be on my own. Spread my wings and fly if you will.

"And I will," I grunted before taking another sip of my coffee.

After showering and dressing in khaki shorts and a light blue tank, I left my hair to curl around my shoulders. The weather outside was beautiful. Eighty-five degree and blue, clear skies. The only downside was the oppressive humidity that covered you as soon as you stepped outside.

I left a note for Mom and Dad telling them that I was roaming about town, snatched up the list of potential apartments I created a week ago, and pointed my car in the direction of downtown Shreveport.

As the afternoon went by, I found myself dismissing apartment after apartment. They were either ridiculously priced, run down, or gave off a creepy vibe. I just couldn't find a place where I felt at home or could see myself potentially living. Granted it had only been one day, but I was growing impatient and irritated.

The list in my hands was wrinkled and ink stained. I threw myself on a bench outside a convenience store where I had stopped to get gas. There was one place left on my list. I decided that I would check it out and if it wasn't right for me then I would give up for the day.

The door next to me chimed as someone walked out of the store, a brown bag in hand.

"Excuse me sir?"

A man in his late 30's stopped and looked at me. He took off his hat and smiled. "What can I do for ya, little lady?"

I smiled back and showed him the sheet in my hands.

"Can you tell me how to get here?"

The gentleman nodded, looking at the address. He looked back up quickly and smiled again. "It's the apartment complex right around the corner," he said, pointing toward the road. "Just take a right at the next light and you'll run smack into it."

"Thank you so much," I replied with relief. Maybe there was hope left.

After contacting the person in charge of the showing the property, I was a little nervous about looking at the apartment complex. The lady on the other end had been a little too perky. Almost as if she couldn't wait to get the property off her hands. We agreed to meet at the location at 2 pm. I glanced at my watch. It was 2:14.

"Great," I mumbled as I climbed out of my car. The sun had made it too hot to turn the car off, but I certainly was not going to waste my gas waiting on the lady.

Tardiness often robs us of opportunity, Mom used to tell me growing up.

I was peering into the sky, relishing in the sun as a white Jeep Liberty pulled up.

"You must be Ms. Finley," a perky blonde lady said as she scrambled out of the car. Her sunglasses were large and brown, nearly taking up all of her face. When she pushed them back into her hair, I saw that her smile wasn't quite reaching her eyes.

I nodded and shook her hand. "Yes ma'am, and you must be…"

"Donna," she interrupted, waving me off. "Everyone calls me Donna. So shall we take a look?"

"So whatd'ya think?" Donna spun around as we stepped into the apartment and pinned me with a smile.

I walked through the kitchen before doubling back and looking at the bedroom. The place was adequate, but there was just something missing. I just couldn't feel myself living there. I was frustrated with myself for being so picky.

I shrugged. "I mean it's nice and all, but…"

"But, it's not you?" she finished for me. Her face said that she had heard it before.

I nodded. "Thank you so much for showing me this place, though. I hate that I wasted your time."

She waved me off. "No bother." She looked pensive for a bit, nibbling on her bottom lip. "If you want, I have one more property that I can show you. It's… it's not one I show everyone, but I think you might like it. I'll drive you over to it, if you like."

I pondered her suggestion. I really had nothing left to lose. The current property was the last one on my list, and my bones were aching from all the walking around town. I was a bit curious as to why she didn't show it off to everyone, but I was all out of ideas and exhausted. We walked out to her car a few minutes later. I slid into the passenger's seat hopeful that this place would be the one, and I could finally stop looking. . My thoughts drifted toward happier thoughts like what life would be like once I finally had my own place, the parties I could throw—once I actually made friends, the pets I could have, the boyfriends I could bring over…

"Well, here we are!" Donna chirped. She seemed a bit giddy.

I climbed out of the car and examined the outside of the property. From the street, the place looked very respectable. The property was actually an old pharmacy with what looked like lofts on top. The whole strip mall seemed to be that way. Across the street was a park. I half expected to see joggers and dog walkers, but instead it was empty. It was kind of creepy.

We headed toward a door, right next to the entrance of the pharmacy, which led to a small lobby. There were two elevators and a set of stairs. Wasting no time, Donna head right for the stairs.

She sure was full of energy.

We reach 2C a minute or two later. Donna fished the key to the loft out of her key ring and opened the door. To say that the place was amazing would be an understatement. Just inside the door was the kitchen, which housed wooden floors, marble counters, and all the latest kitchen equipment.

Donna followed after me, strutting into the combined kitchen/living room. "As you can see, the place comes fully furnished. Everything is brand new; you have a great view of Rollington Park, which used to be a very popular spot years ago." Donna trailed off into her own little world before correcting herself. Her smile got bigger, and she turned her eyes on me. "It's 1500 sq ft, and only $550 a month including all the amenities."

I spun around and faced the blonde.

"Okay, so what's the deal?"

She looked taken aback, but to her credit she recovered quickly.

"What do you mean?" The smile was bigger, but it still didn't meet her eyes.

"This place is awesome, and you are renting it at a price far lower than what it deserves. Plus, when you mentioned it you said that you don't show it to a long of people."

Donna shifted in her spot uncomfortably. "Okay. The reason this place isn't a hot spot is because it's owned by a…" She paused. "A vampire."

I sighed. This place was perfect in every way but one: it wasn't getting me away from vampires.

"He owns a club about a mile or so from here. The kind of girls that normally rent out this place are fang bangers."

I quirked an eyebrow. The term was Greek to me.

"Someone who… does has you know with a vampire," she whispered.

"Oh," I said, understanding her implied meaning. "They have sex with vampires."

Donna nodded. "The owner of these apartments lets them crash here at a discounted rate. He hired me to rent this apartment out. We've never had a problem here before. It's virtually crime free. And from what I've seen, the girls that rent the other apartments are nice."

Donna had me going until the last statement. I could tell she was doing her best to sell the place, but when her voice strained about the other inhabitants I knew she was lying.

I mulled over the information. The apartment was super nice and way better—not to mention cheaper—than I would find anywhere else. But was it worth risking my life?

"Would the owner know that I was staying here because I needed a place to live and not to, you know, have sex with him?"

Donna nodded. "Mr. Northman just wants the place to get rented out. He doesn't care by whom. You should be safe."

Should being the key word. I glanced around the apartment once more.

"I'll take it."


Just cleaning up a few odds and ends. Good stuff starts next chapter. :)