Chapter 3

It was well after midnight when Sam remembered Indie. Remembered the black truck that looked just like Jason Stackhouse's had followed her beat-up red SUV out of the parking lot. Remembered Indie telling him how dangerous her work could be. "Shit," Sam cursed, jumping out of his bed to get dressed and dart to his car.

Sam drove like a maniac, tearing down the country lanes – tailgating with no regrets until he pulled into the motel parking lot within a scant six minutes. He immediately sighted Indie's car parked in front of the room at one end of the motel strip. Sam quickly pulled into the empty spot next to Indie's car and jumped out, heading to the room on the end with a "do not disturb" sign hanging on the knob.

Sam knocked and waited for a moment, hoping against all hope that Indie had merely hid away for the day. That she was perfectly fine. There was no answer. So he tried the doorknob. Unlocked. He eased it open carefully, and was immediately assaulted by a multitude of scents.

Indie's, most strongly. René's too, as Sam had feared. And the smell of death. Vampires. The scene inside the room was just as disturbing as the scents – blood was spattered liberally on the carpet directly in front of the door, on the bedspread, on the walls. But no Indie. "Fuck," Sam said, kneeling besides the largest bloodstain and pressing his fingers to the edge. It was still wet and most certainly Indie's.

Sam stood and closed the door. He drew out his cell phone and dialed a familiar phone. He waited for a few moments before the other person picked up. "Yeah, I'm sorry to disturb you this late, Sook. I know today's been a shitty day for all involved, but-" he was cut off by a yawn on the other end. "This is important, Sookie. Remember the reporter? What I told you about her? René got to her. I'm standing in her motel room and there's blood everywhere, but she's not here. I was hoping you could bring Bill by, see if there's something y'all can find,"

"We're on our way, Sam."

REWIND

Eric Northman sat at his desk inside his office in Fangtasia. Vittoria, his new lieutenant, stood at his back. Pam lounged on the red leather couch opposite them. Kai sat nervously in the chair in front of the desk.

"Tell me now, Kai. How did the Oracle approach you?" Eric asked. His solemn expression and tone of voice left no wiggle-room for the young and carefree vampire.

Kai cleared his throat nervously – a human expression of anxiety that he had yet to break himself of. "I'd just struck out with Verona," he began, referring to another vampire of the area that they weren't quite familiar with. "I've liked her ever since we met, but-"

"Get on with it," Pam groaned behind him. "If I have to listen to another word of your wimpy-"

"Pamela." Eric interjected. "Kai, please get to the point," he added, secretly glad Pam had interrupted Kai's ramblings.

The younger vampire nodded immediately. "Well, she approached me, and offered to buy me a Tru Blood. I told her I wasn't looking for a human for the night, and she wasn't offended. We got to talking – she introduced herself as Cassandra. She seemed like a tourist. Curious, but kind," Kai explained.

"What did she look like?" Vittoria asked.

Kai shrugged. "Like a normal human. Young, dark-haired, skinny," he answered.

The Italian vampire wrinkled her nose, finding the information not useful. "Might you have surveillance footage of her?" Vittoria suggested to Eric, who immediately turned to his computer.

"What day was this, Kai? What time?" Eric questioned, fingers moving at "vamp" speed to bring up the surveillance software.

"Hm, let me look," the young vampire said, taking out his phone to browse the calendar. "Ah, yes. It must have been the 13th. The next day I left the area to visit relatives. It was about midnight or one when we spoke," Kai answered.

Eric did not reply, attempting to find the right time. He motioned for Kai to come look at the screen. "Oh – there she is," Kai pointed out instantly, motioning to a booth near the corner of the screen. Of course it was Kai who faced the camera, not the Oracle.

Eric fast-forwarded the footage until the two got up and the camera caught the woman's face. "Pam. Come take a look," Eric ordered.

His progeny rose and came over, taking a precursory glance at the woman on the screen. "Ah, I remember her. Her ID said Cassandra Thorne. Twenty-three and native to Arizona," Pam recalled from her "vault".

"An alias?" Vittoria wondered.

"Almost certainly. Call the surrounding hotels and motels, locate her," Eric ordered as he stood. He glanced at Kai. "Now for your punishment," he said, making the young vampire gulp in horror.

Indie woke suddenly, as if snapping from a trance. Not unlike the last time she woke, she wondered just where the hell she was. But this time she didn't feel so miserably. Indie was completely alert – finding herself laid out on a red leather couch in a black-and-red decorated office.

She didn't know what time she was, but judging by the color scheme she had a suspicion as to where. Her skin felt taut and dry, covered in dried blood that she marveled at. Other than that, Indie felt good. Stronger than she had in years.

Indie stood and sidled to the door cautiously, listening for movement on the other side. But all was quiet. She tried the knob, but found it locked. That was the moment where she descended into out-and-out panic – being enclosed in a small space for reasons unknown to her.

That, and a bout of mild claustrophobia, deeply entrenches Indie in the throes of a panic attack. All she could think about is how she was trapped, how she couldn't get out, how she needed to get out. And then she was able to calm herself down. Indie slid down against the door to sit on the floor, closing her eyes. "This is a panic attack. It isn't real," she reminds herself, though those words have never really worked. But counting did.

"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15…" Indie began softly, keeping her eyes closed tightly. She counted until 173, when she felt calm enough to stand. She went back to the couch, seeing the water bottle and protein bars left beside it for the first time. Indie opened the water and took several long draughts before starting on a protein bar.

After several hours of boredom and snooping, Indie heard the lock on the door click. And the door opened, revealing Eric Northman. She looked up from her seat on the couch as he stood in the doorway. "What am I doing here?" Indie asked. The question wasn't asked with attitude or fear, but confusion. It prompted Eric to answer.

"I found you when you were gravely hurt. I gave you my blood to heal you. I did not think leaving you where you were would be wise, so I brought you to my bar-" Eric began.

"Fangtasia," Indie interrupted, ignoring the vampire's irritation. She'd deduced it from the décor, and some of the snooping she'd done.

"So you're familiar," it wasn't a question.

"I've been here a few times before," Indie offered.

"I know." Eric responded.

Indie rolled her eyes. "Thanks for the blood, I guess. Can I go?" she asked.

"Not before we talk,"

She sighed. "What do you want from me?" Indie said.

"What makes you think I want something?" Eric retorted, strolling into the office and sitting on the corner of the desk.

Indie lifted an eyebrow. "Two things – one, you're a man," she began.

Eric acknowledged the point with a dip of his head. "And two?" he inquired.

"Two, because you brought me here. Gave me your blood. You wouldn't do that for a stranger for no reason."

"You're not wrong," Eric admitted.

"So then what do you want?" Indie repeated.

"I want the Oracle to owe me a favor. Several, in fact." Eric stated bluntly. Indie raised her eyebrows, unable to hide her surprise. But she played along anyway.

She rolled her eyes. "Half the appeal of the Oracle is that I'm unbiased. If I stick to your interests, well, I'm being biased," Indie remarked. "Then there will be nothing for you to benefit from," she suggested.

"What do you mean?" Eric asked, immediately intrigued.

Indie huffed. "I mean, I have access to information you could only dream of. And vice versa," she said. It was clear through his body language that Eric was interested. "Do you think we can hold off on the negotiations until another night? Frankly, I'm not in the mood," Indie asked before Eric could reply. He was visibly displeased. "After all, I nearly died. I'm too emotional," Indie tacked on, with a mixture of truth and sarcasm.

"Alright." Eric said unexpectedly. He leaned in closer, his intense gaze fixing on Indie. "But you cannot go without telling me your true name. It was promised to me before I healed you," he demanded.

Indie rolled her eyes. "Fine, since you saved my life," she huffed. "My name is Belinda King, but I prefer to be called Indie,"

Eric smirked. "See, that wasn't so hard," he said in a condescending tone. Indie muttered under her breath, and his grin only widened. "I'll show you where you can clean up before leaving. Do you need transport?" he asked, gesturing to the door.

"That would be great," Indie acknowledged, standing and starting towards the door. "Seeing as my car is still at the motel,"

Eric led her out of the office and into the main bar to reach the restrooms – only to find Pam, Sam, Sookie, and Bill waiting near the door. "They insisted on coming in. They're looking for Cassandra, here," Pam remarked, cutting her eyes at Indie.

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