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Chapter Four
This vampire was confusing.
How did we go from a demanding conversation asking me what I was- to this? To him literally attacking me with his mouth? I was clueless. But I couldn't say it was half as bad as I thought it would be, in him kissing me.
His age does show. Well, at least his experience does. His hand musses my hair, while he expertly tilts his head to the side with ease, latching onto my mouth. I've never quite been kissed like this. He just takes total control, sending my head in a whirl. How did mere talking progress into this? How did- And then, suddenly, he's pulling away, leaving me a dazed mess, maybe aching for more. His expression softens into shock, like he is completely surprised by his sudden bout of kissing himself. And then, it hardens with fierce resolve, and he's hauling me out of his office by the wrist. I don't even get enough time to catch my breath.
"Come," he orders, but I already am anyhow, since his grip is so tight. It's hardly necessary. "I have something to show you." I stumble behind him, when he takes an abrupt change in direction. We're not going to the dance floor. We're not going into the main room filled with people. So, where the hell did that leave us to go?
He brings me around to a door, leaving me feeling confused.
Producing a key from his pocket, he unlocks the metal door and cranks it open. He stands back so that I can go in.
"I haven't had a human down here in years," he says quietly, sounding a little breathless with excitement. "It's probably rusty." I can't help but get the feeling he's about to show me something dirty. I gaze up at him suspiciously, only that expression doesn't give much away. Maybe he has learned to control it, and use it to his advantage to lure people in? Taking a deep breath, I peek through the door anxiously. It's far too dark. I can't see anything at all. "Well, go in," he says, waving a hand around impatiently.
Do I even want to know what's down there? Should I go in, or am I only inviting myself in for a quick and easy kill? I don't exactly want to be walking into a trap. Reading his thoughts would have sure helped me prepare for this right now. I'm not sure what to expect at all.
"What's down there, Mister?" I ask, unable to hide the anxiety infecting my voice. "Why am I going down there?"
"Because I want to show you something," he says again simply. It's hardly reassuring.
"And just what exactly are you showin' me?"
"Go in and see for yourself."
I stare him down suspiciously, but it's obvious I'm not going to get the proper answer I'm seeking.
"Fine," I sigh resignedly.
Taking a deep breath, and folding my hands over my stomach tightly as if it'll help me in some way, I step through the doorway. A light suddenly blinks on, illuminating everything. Are they censor lights, or did he just turn them on himself? All I know, is that I'm immediately thankful that they are on. Somehow, it isn't as creepy when I can see. And what I see before me, is a set of concrete steps. Some are damp with water, like they've been washed down recently. Blood splatters are trailing down the stairs, and I can tell its fresh blood. Terrifyingly, I wonder what's been killed down here recently. Am I going to be next? I can't say I'm too jolly about that possibility. Then again, I hardly think death is anything a person can prepare themselves for easily.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" His voice comes from right behind my shoulder. It must be a vampire thing, moving so quickly. "Go down the fucking steps. It's right down there."
The uneasiness I'm feeling amplifies. What on earth is he intending to show me?
"Will I die if I go down there?"
He huffs out a shaky laugh in my ear from behind me, giving me the chills. Always trying to get into my personal space, this one. "Are you fucking retarded?" he whispers wryly. "Just go down the steps already."
"No, thank you," I murmur hurriedly. "I think I've seen more than enough, Mister."
"Oh, I hardly believe you've seen enough yet."
I turn hastily to make my escape, and much to my horror he is standing right behind me, blocking the exit. He's staring down at me intently with those creepy shining blue eyes, and it's really hard to tell what he is thinking- or feeling, if he even feels. Great. I'm stuck. But at least I'm not completely defenseless. I know a few ways to defend myself; I've still got my knees, and my feet, and my hands, and my fingers. I can easily knee him in the groin if need be, though something tells me dealing with a vampire is harder stuff than with a regular man. But he would react like any regular man would if I knee him where it hurts most, right? I sure hope so. Then again, he's a big guy. In fact, almost the tallest I've ever seen. At least finding his precious manly jewels would be easy as breathing for me, since it's more or less the quickest place for me to find.
Only, something tells me it'll take more than just a swift knee to this vampire to take him down entirely.
Tara's words instantly come into mind, worrying me: "He's real dangerous, Sook... I heard somewhere that the older the vampire is, the stronger he is... And you groped the oldest, most powerful vampire in Louisiana!" Could that be true, all that Tara said?
"Here, maybe it'll help more if I hold your hand," he says, holding one out to me. But I can tell by the way he voices the suggestion that it's hardly an action digestible to him. Clearly even so much as skin-to-skin contact with a human is disgusting to this one, but he manages to hide it well, when without my permission, he takes my hand, leading me to the staircase. Somehow, it isn't as scary with him leading the way. Maybe I can catch him off-guard by running when the time does come for me to make my escape? I certainly hope so.
He leads me down the stairs slowly, and I have to grip onto the steel railing for support. Even the cold metal on the railing feels sticky, and grotty. The first thing that hits me, as we reach the last step, is the smell: Something is obviously rotting away in here, and it doesn't smell all that nice. It isn't very pleasant, and I think I about spot the source immediately; Lying against the stone wall closest to my left, is what looks like a human skeleton. Their flesh has already rotted off, so all that's left of them is bare, dirty bones. My fear builds, turning my stomach. I just don't understand why he decided I needed to come down here for. A few more dry splotches of blood are strewn across the stone walls. Is this some sort of dungeon the vampires at Fangtasia use to entrap humans? It looks that way.
"Here she is," he says, voice quiet and soft, stopping stock-still ahead of me. He's looking at something across from where we are standing, but he is blocking my line of view. Holding my breath, I step closer into his side, clutching onto his hard, cold hand for dear life. I'm hoping he doesn't mind that. Well, it's not like his hand will break if I hold onto it far too tightly, after all.
When I look at what he's staring at, it's hardly what I'm expecting at all.
Chains are suspended off the high ceiling, all rusty and brown. Shackles dangle from the ends of the chains, obviously in place for restraining something or... someone. I'm praying he isn't expecting that person to be me. How... disgusting.
"Why are you bothering to show me this?" I ask, irritation seeping out with the words. Is this his wicked version of romancing and impressing somebody? I'm hardly impressed in the slightest, mainly scared and sickened.
"Because..." He tilts his head to look down at me, his eyes brightly lit with either dark humour or dirty thoughts. "You and I are going to fuck this out of my system."
I release the breath I've been holding in, feeling my entire body sagging in shock. Fuck this out of his system? Who the hell says something like that, and in a completely serious manner? What a way to give a girl heart failure. I wriggle my hand out of his hand quickly, reeling in revulsion, and place it more suitably against my left thigh.
"I beg your pardon?" I croak out, mystified.
"You heard me," he says, without the slightest trace of humour whatsoever in his expression. And then he makes a seemingly exaggerated movement of his top lip, bringing out those long, glistening fangs with an odd clicking noise. Jesus Christ, Shepard of Judea. He is being completely serious here!
"Fuck... what out, Mister?" I don't usually swear, but I'm finding difficulty in trying to reframe his words.
Well, hell. Tara was certainly right: The man is dangerous, and mean. Brutal. But I think I already worked that out the instance I met him.
"This little situation." He points to himself, then to me.
"We have a situation going on here?" I can't even hide the sheer horror in my voice.
"Yes, we do."
Keep him talking, keep him talking, and then everything will be as right as rain, my thoughts scream at me. I think I'm going into a deep shock. This wasn't what I was expecting at all, in him bringing me down here. I don't know what to say, or what to even think. What is even an appropriate response to this, when you unknowingly find yourself in an unthinkable situation with a dangerous and maybe sadistic vamp? A vampire who looks horrifyingly determined for it to go his way, for that matter. And seeing the way he orders people around, his fellow vampire employees in Fangtasia, it's obvious he always gets his way. I've never had sex before, so surely it was understandable why I was freaking out right now. I've only been on two dates in high school, and they were brief and unbearable, because I could hear the two boy's thoughts and what they wanted from me, and it instantly turned me off. No way would my first time be experienced with a lunatic vampire, nor would I allow myself to ever be shackled to a wall in order to 'fuck it out of his system', or whatever the hell that means.
No, I always had higher expectations. I didn't think they were high ones; Just me sharing my first time with a sweet man who I loved, and who loved me dotingly in return. Plus, a bed wasn't half bad either. Maybe vampires don't have beds, though? Still, a bed was kind of necessary. Not a cold, dark room with menacing chains. How revolting.
"Look, while I appreciate the offer, I'm going to have to decline on that," I say, as calmly and evenly as I can muster, once I've managed to find my voice.
"Well, tough shit." He shrugs casually and runs his eyes over the room. "This isn't an offer. I do not make offers." His voice is just as careless as his expression. He rubs his hands together, like he's preparing himself for a hearty enjoyable meal, then turns to face me more directly. He eyes me speculatively. "Now, where should we get started? I'm thinking more along the lines of chaining you."
"But I-" I'm left a blubbering mess, staring after him helplessly, when he grabs something hooked to the decrepit wall.
"And this," he says huskily, lifting whatever it is he is holding up at me. Is that leather wrist cuffs or something? "I'm thinking it would be beneficial to use this to cover your mouth. I don't particularly care to hear your voice." He looks as if he is seriously considering this, despite my refusal. He purses his lips, undecided. "Then again, it would be nice to hear your screams." He grunts to himself deeply, and slides the odd item back onto the hook on the wall. "No, I think hearing you is a better way to fuck it out."
Holy ass. The man is completely serious about this. What a total creeper. My breathing is now very shallow, and I feel the fear increasing by the second. Yeah, this entire thing was not turning out the way I wanted it to. I couldn't believe my ears.
"Are you hard of hearing, Mister?" I whisper, feeling very much like a startled cat. "I said no!" I'm feeling completely and utterly overwhelmed, with creepy-crawlies shivering my skin.
He steps closer to me, peering deeply into my eyes with amusement. His pupils are heavily dilated black, over-ruling the blue around them. My Lord. He's totally enjoying this, making me uncomfortable- it's clear as crystal. My adrenaline pulses. I'm getting into defense mode. It's nearing knee time, Sookie.
"You've gotten me into this. Now you're getting me out of it." He's definitely enjoying my discomfort, no ifs or buts about it. He's looking extremely pleased with himself. Is that a smirk I see? "I am going to enjoy this, Miss Stackhouse, and you will yield to me." His eyes roam down my yellow dress appreciatively. "Well, let's start by getting you out of that fucking dress, shall we?"
"You first, buddy," I mutter furiously. If I can delay this for as long as I'm possible, I might still have some hope at least.
"But I'm not the one wearing a dress," he mumbles deeply, irritated, as if he's misunderstood me. I get a mental image of this six-foot vampire in a dress, and I almost laugh out loud.
"No, I mean your clothes." I try to sound saucy, and- thank my lucky stars- it's convincing.
"Oh?" He leans back from me a fraction, looking stunned. "My human is getting cocky, and would like me to go first?"
I feel a flare of anger so intense at his words, I feel my hands ball up tightly into fists at my sides, my fingernails digging. His human? I'm instantly whirled back to our trying conversations in his office... If you were mine... you're lucky you're not my human...
Well, damn straight. I am not his human.
My intestines squirm with glee.
He looks as if he is silently contemplating my request, and then he shrugs. "Fair enough." His large hands move to the buttons on his shirt. "Suit yourself." Sending me internally squealing in shock, he grasps the black material of his shirt tightly with his fingers and tugs, sparing himself the time it would take to undo it. And yes, just like that, buttons are popping off everywhere and there's a whole lot of chest happening before my own pair of unsuspecting eyes.
So much for me dragging this out. He is clearly one eager vampire to get down and dirty.
He rips it off his muscular shoulders, balls up his shirt in his hands and then throws it carelessly at my feet on the grotty ground. Something tells me he loves getting naked, and showing off his body. And, truth be told, his body is quite the delicious one to behold; He's a total feast for the eyes. Too bad he's creepy and insane.
He gives me a leering, intense look. "Your turn." What? Are we playing strip-poker or something?
Keeping my eyes firmly fixated on his chilling hungry ones, I pretend to reach down and grab the ends of my dress. How on earth am I meant to get out of the sticky situation I've gotten myself into? But then... I have an idea. I try to smile cheekily, despite the muscles in my face feeling as if they are frozen and twitchy, and place my hand on the left side of his chest, like a caress. And then I lean in slowly, and it clearly catches him off-guard, because he grunts in confusion. I lay my ear against his cold chest, pretending like I'm searching for any sign of a heartbeat. He wiggles uncomfortably. Unsurprisingly, I can't hear one at all. But he's a dead man, after all.
"What the fuck?" he whispers, sounding confused.
Grabbing my head between his hands, he lifts my head, and stares down at me with wary, fretful blue eyes.
"I'm only just tryin' to find a heartbeat, Mister."
"And did you?" he asks gruffly. He's back to being Mr. Grumpy.
"Nope." I smile up at him softly. It's definitely way too close for comfort, and I don't much like the way he is holding my head, and staring down into my eyes searchingly. I try to hold his gaze anxiously, trying not to let too much of my fear show. I definitely don't like being too close to this one. I swallow dryly, when I see his eyes dart down to my mouth a few times. He's totally devouring me with his eyes. I swallow again, pursing my lips tightly. Damn it, don't kiss me again, Mister! Don't!
And then he looks across my head, something catching his attention, and the most oddest expression crosses his features. His mouth pops open slightly, showing the fangs, and his face ashens and drains of color- if that's even possible for a vamp, that is.
"What?" he breathes in astonishment, his voice low. "How is this possible?"
I stare at him, confused, before I turn and look myself. But astoundingly, there is nobody else in the room. I look at him again carefully, following the trail of his gaze. Nope, just the wall. So, who the hell is he talking to? Unless this is another weird vampire thing...
His entire demeanour changes from hungry, horny vampire, to an irritated, provoked angry one.
"What?" he says again curtly. "Don't fucking lecture me like I am a child!" And then he pushes me away and storms over towards the wall, arms crossed over his pale chest. I get the impression he isn't talking to me. But then who is he talking to? There is no one else in here, for goodness sake! He stares at the wall, frowning. It's like he is seeing something nobody else can see, something... invisible. He scoffs at the wall, and throws his hands around. And then, like an explosion, he is yelling. "You make me this way! You fucking taught me this! It was you!" His loud, furious voice echoes along the walls, and blasts into my ears. I wince, and cover them with my hands. Terrifying. "Our emotions do not rule us, we rule them, Godric!"
Godric? Who's Godric? And where is he, if he's talking to him?
He makes an odd strangled choking noise, and his shoulders slump forward in defeat. Unwelcome pity settles within me.
"This is all I know, because of you!"
"Mister," I whisper, hopefully in a soothing way, staring anxiously at him as he eyes something on the wall. He clearly ignores me. It's like he can't hear anything at all.
"You taught me this was weak, and that we are greater than this! You. Fucking. Did!"
Oh my Lord.
Gasping in a deep breath, I move slowly towards him, a bit scared he'll react badly if I make any sudden movements that startle him. And then, once I see his face more clearly, I realize he looks utterly lost and ravaged, like somebody has pulled out a rug from underneath his feet. I move around him until I'm standing in front of the wall he is glaring at, anxious and on-edge. And then he looks stunned to see me, and he looks down at his shoes quickly, abashed, like it's almost too unbearable for him to look me straight in the eyes. What has happened to him? Poor, troubled vampire man.
"Umh, I..." He whispers, deeply shaken. He runs a hand through his slicked back hair. His hands trembling. Everything is, though. And then, making me jump, the door cranks open from upstairs and I hear a set of heels clacking ruthlessly down the steps. A set of slender pale legs appear, in a pink frilly skirt.
The lady vampire.
She looks between us apprehensively with her bright eyes, before they fall onto the very shaken and ashamed Eric Northman. "What the fuck is all this ruckus? I can hear it all the way upstairs."
Eric Northman takes in a deep breath, before levelling his stare onto her. She eyes him warily. Maybe she's seen him like this before? After all, Tara said they were... friends.
"I don't recall requesting your services here, Pam," he seethes.
She crosses her arms, admirably unperturbed by his meanness. "It was Godric again, wasn't it?" Oh, jolly. She knows this Godric, too? "He appeared to you, didn't he?"
"Yes, Pam. He did," he mumbles shortly.
Her eyes dart to me again. "Are you fucking this one, or what? I have to say, she's cute. A bit unruly, though."
"No, Pam. I am not. We are finished here." Are we? Because that was kind of news to me. I can't help that I'm a bit relieved, really. And then, still refusing to look at me, he grasps me roughly by my upper arm and pulls me towards the stairs. There's no denying I want to get the heck out of dodge, so I let him haul me out of the room willingly. I'm still alive, and I'm not chained to the wall. I think any girl would be relieved by that outcome.