As Peggy ran into the Bon Temps church nursery to check on Laney Birmingham, she had a feeling that the slutty—uh, poor young woman had already met a bad end. The scent of blood hung heavily in the air, and no one needed to tell her that a murder at a vampire wedding spelled bad news for human-vampire relations.

Peggy paused in the door of the nursery, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as her suspicions were confirmed. Laney lay in the middle of the floor, her throat demolished, a little pool of blood surrounding her head like a halo, her eyes wide and staring. Half a dozen little children filled the room, and she could tell from their faces that they were all about to start crying.

Peggy's stomach growled. When had she last had a True Blood? As a new vampire of less than three years, she was drinking eight to ten bottles a night – about the same amount found in an average human body. Eric got by on half a bottle, though she knew he missed feeding from live donors. She also knew that fact was part of what was starting to drive a wedge between them.

Before she knew what she was doing, she had knelt on the rug, previously cheerfully pink and blue striped and now stained crimson, next to Laney. Damn, but the blood smelled so good, so sweet, so tempting. Eric wouldn't mind. He would encourage her. He would want her to have a little taste. It wasn't as if Peggy had killed her, anyway. Not that she would have minded doing so. Of everyone she knew who deserved to be dead, Laney Birmingham had been high on the list. When they found out who had killed her, Peggy would send them a nice gift and a thank-you note.

"Go ahead," came a voice from the doorway. "Help yourself."

Peggy's head snapped back and she shot to her feet. Her fangs, protruding slightly already, snicked all the way out as she growled defensively at the unknown woman in the doorway. She had pale pink hair and eyes that seemed almost colorless, was of a medium height, and something about her wasn't quite human.

"What are you?" Peggy demanded.

"A friend," the woman said. She swirled her hand in the air and Peggy felt compelled to watch her fingers. Her legs felt heavy. She couldn't move them.

"No… not a friend," she said. "What ARE you?"

"Maybe you will find out, maybe you won't," said the woman, and then Peggy couldn't move at all. The woman started circling her, walking around her. "You're young. It's too easy."

She pinched Peggy's behind, and Peggy would have jumped but she was completely frozen. She hissed. It was the only noise she could make. Suddenly she wished she could cry out for Eric. She called out with her mind, but the appeal for help seemed only to bounce around in her skull and she knew right away that whatever this woman was doing had isolated her from her lover. She could only hope that when she didn't come back, he would come after her. The pink haired woman stopped in front of her and looked into her eyes.

"I don't think I will destroy you just yet. You may still be of use to me," she said thoughtfully. "In fact, you can be the bait, little fishie, for what I really want to catch."

Peggy heard voices in the hall and knew that someone else was coming. It was Sam and Lafayette. Oh, no – why couldn't it have been Eric or Pam, someone who might be strong enough to fight this… whatever she was? Smirking, the woman twirled her hand over Peggy's head. Peggy saw a flash of glitter, then everything went black. She felt like she was falling down a long tunnel, but she still couldn't move, couldn't speak.

"Now who the hell are you?" she heard Lafayette say. The only reply he got was laughter and mumbled words in a language that Peggy hadn't heard before.

Suddenly she felt herself smash into what could only be a concrete wall. The impact shook her body and she felt like every bone inside her had snapped. She screamed, and knew her voice had returned, along with a world of pain. She tried to move, but she still couldn't, probably because of the broken bones. With every ounce of her being she screamed out for Eric.

He didn't come.

She tried to guess where she was, but it was pitch dark. There was a dank smell that was somehow familiar. When the pain dulled slightly, she knew it was the smell of old death. She was reminded of the night she awoke as a vampire in an old above-ground crypt in New Orleans. Could she be… in New Orleans? How was that possible? But Peggy knew that in Bon Temps and Northern Louisiana corpses were put right into the ground as the water table wasn't as high.

After a few minutes, she was able to pull herself into a better position. She could feel that her bones were trying to heal, but she also knew that she needed blood badly. Without it, she could lie here, wherever here was, in pain for months or even years. The bones would slowly heal, but she would become so starved that the hunger would drive her to madness.

She wanted to cry, but that would waste precious fluids.

Would Eric ever know what happened to her? Could he hear her now? Or was she still under the influence of whatever the pink-haired woman had done to her?

She and Eric had been blond-bonded since the night she had awoken as a vampire. They had given themselves fully to each other, and always had an awareness of each other. They often shared emotions. Their love had not waned, she told herself. The heat of new romance had just… cooled a bit. He was busy with work, and though she spent most nights at Fangtasia, the bar bored her. She ought to start her own business – not because she needed the money, because Godric had left her a fortune, but to amuse herself. She didn't even have the hunt to keep her occupied.

For the first time since Godric's old friend Christopher had made her a vampire and broken her original blood blond with Eric, she felt completely apart from him. She had to draw him back! Otherwise, she would suffer in this tomb forever. Feverishly she remembered her early days as a vampire…

"You taste different," Eric had said, licking her blood from his lips after they finished making love.

Peggy didn't know quite how to reply. He tasted the same to her… but she was the one who had changed, not him. "I suppose it's because I'm a vampire now."

Eric nodded. "Christopher's blood is in your veins now. I can no longer taste Godric in you."

When she had belonged to Godric, she had shared a similar bond to the one she had made with Eric after his maker had gone into the sun.

"Maybe after I drink enough of your blood, it will come back?" she asked. "His blood is yours, too."

"Maybe," Eric said.

They both knew that it wasn't completely true. Eric's blood was definitely reminiscent to Godric's in flavor, but there was his own stamp as well. Peggy loved it, the wild, ancient heart of him that she had tasted in his blood. And now in hers, he felt the unwanted presence of a vampire who was her friend, but something of an annoyance to Eric.

At least Christopher had set her free of him. His progeny were not bonded to him the way most were to their makers, he had told her. The thread of magic between them from their shared blood was thin. They had an awareness of each other, but no more than that.

But maybe if Eric couldn't sense her now, couldn't find her and rescue her, Christopher could…

Peggy tried to reach out for him, desperate for help. There was only a stone and glass wall and empty flashes of red pain. The dusty silence of the crypt. The cemetery outside contained only the normal sounds of the night. No help on the way. No soul around.

No Eric.

No Christopher.

No reply.

No help.

No savior.

Her only other choice was to break out of the crypt and find blood. Any blood. She would probably have to kill. Right now, to stop the pain, she was more than willing to do it. But the truth was, she could barely move. She forced herself to try again, but earned only another wave of pain.

She was going to kill that pink-haired bitch if she ever got out of this, ever got her strength back…

All right, Peggy realized the absurdity of that thought, since she knew nothing about the woman, but she couldn't help her anger. And hadn't she said something about using Peggy for bait? What if she wanted to hurt Eric? For the first time since Godric had gone into the sun, Peggy wished she could die, if only to save her lover, never mind to leave all this pain behind.

Mercifully, she blacked out after a while. Or maybe the sun just rose outside. The next time she awoke, Peggy realized two things. Her pain had lessened and her body had healed to some degree. There was a sweet wave of relief in that, and as she tried to sit up, she found that she could, if somewhat gingerly.

Followed by the relief of lessened pain came a wave of hunger stronger than she had felt since the night she had been made – a night when she had also wakened in a tomb like this.

Then she realized that someone was opening the crypt.

The someone was a human.

The someone was about to be dinner.