And how, the continuing story. Lots of interaction in this chapter, and we're establishing a pattern that will probably haunt Rebecca for quite some time.
Sookie counted her tips as Rebecca clocked out, nodding to Sam as she grabbed her purse from beneath the bar. They were going to have a regular girls' night because Sookie felt bad about leaving Rebecca by herself the previous night. It had been so long since they had spent this much time together, and Rebecca was enjoying the fact that even though it had been several years, everything was falling back into place. Old patterns were emerging and she was beginning to feel a sense of comfort grow between them.
"How about 'Dirty Dancing'," Sookie said, folding the bills in her hand and stuffing them into her pocket.
Rebecca gave a short nod, "Sounds good. We'll make popcorn; pop open a bottle of wine, dish about Bill…"
"Rebecca!" Sookie shouted in mock embarrassment. "You know I don't kiss and tell."
Rebecca snorted, "If you stayed at his place last night, I'd hope you were doing more than kissing."
They laughed together, and Rebecca could feel a bit of the weight on her shoulders lift. The feeling only seemed to grow as she unlocked her car from the passenger's side for Sookie, turning to step around to the driver's side.
Her blood ran cold as she spotted a figure in the dark beyond the lights of the parking lot—a form she'd know anywhere. "Get in the car, Sookie," she whispered, shoving her friend towards the door.
Sookie inhaled sharply, "Is that him? Can you tell?"
"Get in the car, Sookie," Rebecca issued through her teeth.
The form moved, and suddenly he was feet from her, snarling. "Where's your watch dog now, Becky? Or have you decided for once not to whore for your safety."
Rebecca recoiled as if she'd been hit, the words forced from her mouth before she could think, "Fuck you, Brandon."
Brandon's eyes narrowed, "I think that can be arranged."
Suddenly, she was being thrown thirty feet away from the car, landing hard. Brandon followed close behind, yanking her to standing by her hair. "You know, I never thought you'd be so stupid, Becky, sending those fanatical assholes after me…Don't look so surprised, and don't interrupt, I've waited too long to put you in your place." He lifted her bodily so that her toes barely touched the ground, his arms like steel bands around her torso, keeping her still.
"I should thank you, though, I had so much fun draining the life out of them drop by drop, bleeding them while they cried for their God." His voice was a harsh whisper against her ear, his breath tainting her skin. Rebecca felt tears leak from her eyes as she whimpered from the images he was describing, the pain of his arms keeping the air from entering her lungs. "Is that what you're going to do? Cry for God to save you. He won't, you know, save you. He doesn't care. No one does. You're all alone, and all mine."
Rebecca felt him reach for her neck, then something snapped and the world went woozy. She felt nothing, absolutely nothing from her neck down—shit, he'd broken her spine, snapped it like a twig.
In the flash of a moment, Brandon dropped her, crying out. She landed on her back, her head turned away from whatever was happening behind her, she could hear Sookie yelling and teeth gnashing, then something metallic clinking over and over.
More snarls and growls joined in, and then she caught a flash of Brandon flying past her, his back retreating into the darkness. Then, she was being lifted gently.
"Neck's broken," Bill said kneeling next to her as Sookie cradled her gently to her chest, the fellowship's chain folded around her wrist. If Rebecca thought she could blush, she would have.
"Can you speak?" Sookie asked. Rebecca just blinked back at her, knowing she couldn't. "We have to help her. Can you-."
Bill shook his head, "I don't think that is such a good idea. She's not mine."
Sookie looked murderously over Rebecca's body, "This is your entire fault. She asked you for help and you refused. Look what he did, what you did, to her. She's completely destroyed."
It took half a second for Rebecca to compute what Sookie actually meant, but when it clicked, she wished she had the ability to bury her face into the material of Sookie's shirt in shame. Eric was there, looking at her in her worst hour, completely helpless. How human she must look to him, how disgusting.
"My apologies," he said diplomatically. "I didn't know he was this dangerous."
Sookie scoffed, "Bullshit, you knew exactly what he would do. As if her struggle wouldn't be hard enough with her separation, now she's going to be a quadriplegic on top of that. He's going to kill her next, and who would be able to stop him, seeing as you don't seem to be very efficient at it."
Rebecca tried to get a look at Eric's face, but could only see the blurry image of it in her peripheral. There was a long pause of something urgent in her body, and then she was being lifted again.
"Mind her head," Sookie said, handing her over.
"She's not a baby, Sookie, though she may be as helpless as one," Eric shot back, with a glare. For once, Rebecca had to agree, though she wondered just what he was doing, arranging her in his lap.
It all became very clear as he bit into his wrist, the thick, sticky blood pouring out from the wound. She wished she could struggle, to pull away as he opened her jaw and set his wrist at her mouth. She wished she could stop the flow of the blood, strangely warm, from trickling down her throat. Her muscles were inert, unable to help her when her mind was rebelling against the onslaught of Eric's apology.
Her skin took on a strange tingle, her body awakening in erratic motions, fingers twitching slowly at first, and then with more frequency. All the while, Eric stared down at her with a concentrated intensity that scared her. When she was able, she shut her eyes against it, wanting to cry as a lancing heat struck through her neck. She could literally feel her spine mending itself, cells regenerating and fusing. Her breath kicked into high gear, her brain sucking every impulse, every stimulus from every nerve ending all over her body. Belatedly, she became aware of Eric's hands holding her down as she convulsed on the cool cement of the parking lot, Sookie's voice trying to calm her.
When finally the convulsions stopped, Rebecca took the chance to open her eyes, only to shut them again. Something was terribly wrong. She opened her eyes again, squinting. Everything was so bright when it had once been dim. She glanced around at shadows that really weren't there, light streaming through the trees above her as if it her daytime. And then Eric leaned over her, the blonde of his hair shimmering even in the dark.
"Can you feel anything?" He asked, looking at her with veiled interest.
Rebecca nodded, then paused, moving her head from side to side, "Holy shit," she breathed, then, "What the fuck?"
Eric leaned away, releasing her shoulders, "Vampire blood has a certain kind of healing quality."
Rebecca glanced to Sookie, who looked like she was ready to pounce on her at any moment, "Did you know about this?"
Sookie nodded, "I'm so sorry."
"For what?" Rebecca replied. "If anything, I should be apologizing to you. I should buy you a drink, several, in fact, for what just happened." She nodded subtly to the silver wrapped 'round Sookie's wrist.
Sookie helped her to stand, Bill and Eric standing at a distance. For a moment, it looked like they were talking, but nothing was coming out of her their mouths, their lips moving almost imperceptibly. She couldn't focus on that, though, not when everything seemed to shine like multi-faceted gems around her. "Jesus," she breathed, feeling light, almost as if she'd fly away with the barest hint of wind.
After a moment, she came back to herself, and turned to Eric. "Thank you," she said. "For…whatever you just did."
Eric tilted his head to the side, "We'll call it even."
"Even?" She furrowed her brow, "You didn't owe me anything."
He stepped forward, "You are right, I didn't, l but I shirked my duties in your case, feeling the task below me. Perhaps I needed a little reminder of what it means to be a Sheriff. Goodnight."
He was gone in a blink of the eyes, leaving Bill, Sookie, and Rebecca alone in the parking lot. "Let's go home," Rebecca said, ready to slide into bed and forget this whole thing ever happened.
Sookie took the keys from her, "I'll drive. Bill, would you like a ride home?"
Bill smiled, "I'd be delighted." There was a blur of motion, "And, I'll drive. You've had a bit of a shock tonight. You should rest."
Rebecca could tell there was something wrong the second she opened the door of the car. Everything smelled metallic, bloody. Bill was out of the car and snarling before she could scream, but she did it anyway, letting loose the howl that she'd been holding in for weeks. It burned in her throat, piercing the night around her, beautiful though it was.
Sookie was screaming, too, she noticed, as Bill held her. The whole front of the house was coated in blood, painting the picturesque porch in crimson stain. Rebecca fell to her knees, knowing exactly where the blood had come from—the Fellowship hadn't been able to take Brandon down, and they'd paid for her mistake in blood.
Before long, police cars were populating the front yard, and she was being questioned. She spoke in short, crisp sentences, and when she could, she snuck away around the back of the house, and through the back door. Trudging up the stairs, Rebecca made her way to the bathroom and flung her bag on the counter, the contents flying out over the sink. Cursing, she started to pile the massive amounts of stuff back into the tote, pausing when she came across a small wrapped package.
The little parcel, wrapped in shiny magazine paper, had a note scrawled in Sharpie marker. To bring the dreamer back—L. Rebecca smiled, unwrapping the gift until two small pills fell into her palm. Without thinking, she shoved the capsules into her mouth and dry-swallowed, glaring at herself in the mirror. After throwing the rest of her purse's eclectic bits back where they belong, Rebecca leaned against the sink and tried not to cry. It would be useless to do so, and she'd cried enough in the last few hours to last her a lifetime.
Sighing, Rebecca stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom she was using in the absence of a place of her own. She stared down at the bed, running her hands over the material, the feeling accentuated by whatever Eric's blood was doing to her. Everything was so intense, every feeling felt to its fullest—and now she was feeling really, really scared. Going to the Fellowship was such a bad decision that, in hindsight, she couldn't believe that she'd actually made it.
Slumping on the bed, Rebecca rubbed at her eyes, trying to relieve the stress. There was no physical hurt from Brandon's attack, but her chest ached nonetheless, knowing that she had put, was putting, people in danger. First, the Fellowship, now Sookie. It had to stop.
Feeling Eric's blood pump hard through her veins, giving her body a renewed vigor, Rebecca reached under the bed to pull out her bag. She'd rent a room tonight with some of her tips and put the down payment on an apartment tomorrow. To keep Brandon away, she'd ask Sam for dayshifts and stay in every night. Sookie had Bill to help protect her, and, with Rebecca out of the house, Sookie wouldn't have to worry about more gruesome graffiti.
There was a frenzied kind of lunacy that entered her mind at running away in the middle of the night, tucking herself away in a hotel and praying for daylight. She paid it no mind, knowing she could do it, feeling almost invincible in the darkness of her room. After shoving the rest of her bare essentials into her duffel, Rebecca zipped it roughly and turned from the room peeking out into the hall to make sure Sookie wasn't anywhere nearby. She wasn't.
Stepping gingerly, Rebecca tiptoed down the hall feeling her head change with the pills she'd taken. Briefly, she wondered if she was good enough to drive, but she quickly dismissed the idea. She could see perfectly fine, could see every detail of the carpet—even the stains—and the photographs hanging on the walls. God, she felt amazing, perfect, even.
Rebecca took a deep breath on the landing of the stairs, smelling the fresh cut flowers on the dining room table, the musk of the night seeping through the open door in the front of the house. She closed her eyes, and felt her body go limp, her mind go blank. It took only half a second, but it was enough to send her forward, off balance, and tumbling down the stairs.
She hit the bottom hard, but, unsurprisingly, she felt nothing but the course of whatever high she was riding. Giggles burst from her chest, clenching her stomach and churning her mind. As she gasped for air, she had the faint notion of the possibility that she'd finally cracked, that she'd lost her mind. Everything around her swam with light and shadow, and her head was beginning to spin. Vaguely, she caught Sookie leaning over her, calling for Bill, but the pills were working fast, sending her tumbling down the rabbit hole to a place she really wasn't sure she wanted to go. Panic set in fully, forcing her skin to break out in a cold sweat, and her heart to pound forcefully in her chest.
Her breath wasn't coming in right; it seemed to stop in her throat instead of reaching her lungs. Christ, she was going to die—twice in one night. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, running down her temples as she hyperventilated on the floor of Sookie's foyer. Her body tingled at the lack of oxygen, and dark rings formed around her eyes. Things went a little fuzzy, and then hands were angling her chin upwards, forcing her to focus her attention directly in front of her face.
"Look at me, Rebecca," Eric intoned quietly.
Squinting, Rebecca parted her lips to speak, but the air wasn't there and she barely managed a squeak. Eric's eyes shone like ice, even when Sookie flipped on a light, returning to her side. He looked down at her with a sneer, the tension in his face palpable.
"This is the second time I've had to run to your aid tonight, Rebecca. It's redundant, and, to be perfectly honest, boring." He tilted her chin further back, "Breathe."
Rebecca gulped in air, the darkness fading from her line of sight, "S-sorry. I'm sorry."
Eric released her neck, his hands pressing on either side of her head as he leaned over her. "Don't apologize. It's useless. What you can do is tell me why you are lying at the foot of the stairs instead of in bed where you should be."
Rebecca blinked a few times, "I don't know."
Sucking in a sharp breath, Eric fumed, "Don't. Lie. To me."
Knowing she couldn't rat Lafayette out, Rebecca tried to sit up and was utterly unsuccessful. She flopped back down with a sigh, unable to even lift her hands to her eyes to stop the spinning as she tried to think of a way to avoid Eric's interrogation. "How did you get in here?"
"Sookie invited me in. Don't evade the question. I'll not ask again, what happened? I can feel you, Rebecca, you are… unstable."
Rebecca huffed, "Thanks, that's really nice of you. The vampire thinks I'm unstable. Just fucking perfect."
Seeming having had enough, Eric leaned close, his nose brushing against hers—so close that they were sharing breaths. "What did you take, and how did you get it?"
She would have answered the question, really she would have, if she hadn't been distracted by the sensation of having him so close. He was so beautiful, his pale skin perfect, his scent mouthwatering. Rebecca inhaled deeply, he smelled like—she couldn't describe it, but she wanted more.
Eric smirked knowingly, adjusting his position to press just a little bit closer. "Rebecca," he purred, "Answer me." As he spoke, his mouth brushed against her lips with the slightest of pressures, the barest hint of a kiss. Rebecca wondered if this is what it felt like to be enthralled by a vampire—it certainly wasn't a bad experience, she could see how some women would crave it now and then. Her experiences with Brandon's seduction techniques had been nothing compared to what he was doing to her at that very moment. She was caving.
"I don't know, I'd tell you if I did." Her breath, which had momentarily regulated, was coming in soft pants against his mouth.
Eric thought for a moment, his top lip sliding along her lower, his eyes flicking to the side. Rebecca heard Sookie censuring him, calling him all kinds of names and threatening to rescind his invitation if he didn't leave her friend alone. He merely lifted a fraction of an inch and glared at Bill, "Handle your human, Bill, while I handle mine."
Rebecca took the moment to try to gather her wits. Turning over on her stomach, she grappled with the floor to get back up the stairs. It was useless to try, but she had to do something. He had a clear advantage—she was drugged twice over and probably suffering a head injury—and she knew he had no qualms with manipulating her sexually.
Eric let out a soft chuckle, reaching for her hips and lifting her easily, turning her to sit astride his thighs. "You must be drugged to think you could get away so easily."
Rebecca slumped against Eric's chest, trying to still the motion of her spinning head. She let out an indistinguishable groan, slapping harmlessly at his arms, which were the only thing keeping her from collapsing back on the floor. "'S not fair," she murmured.
At this, Eric outright laughed, "When did I give you the impression that I was fair? Really, I must apologize. Now, about my question…"
"What question?"
Eric hoisted her a bit higher on his hips, moving to standing with a certain inhuman fluidity that came as naturally to him as a heartbeat did to her. "Where you got the drugs, Rebecca, you really must keep up." He placed her arms around his shoulders and secured her legs around his waist, stepping towards the stairs. For a moment, she was stunned by how easily he held her not insubstantial weight, his hands holding lightly to her thighs. As they ascended, Rebecca waved dazedly at Sookie, who stood at the bottom of the stairs, her mouth hanging open in shock. What the fuck, she mouthed. Rebecca shrugged, feeling another round of giggles bubbling up.
Faster than she would have thought, she was being laid on her bed and arranged in a comfortable position. Rebecca hummed in satisfaction as she snuggled deeper into the pillows, readying herself for sleep. Eric tsked at her, tapping her cheeks to keep her awake.
"Nuh uh," he said firmly. "Where, Rebecca?" He traced her cheekbones, "I promise I'll reward your honesty."
It was a tempting offer, but Rebecca just couldn't do it. "Why do you want to know? You couldn't care less about me."
Eric considered her for a moment, "You are right, I don't care. But I also cannot continue to do business with your scattered emotions wreaking havoc on my concentration."
Rebecca rolled her eyes, "Poor baby can't concentrate."
"Do not take that tone with me, Rebecca," Eric seethed.
"Or you'll what, Eric, put me in time out? I'm not your child, Eric; you can't punish me simply because I won't cooperate with you." She leveled what she hoped was a sarcastic expression at him, but only succeeded in watching him face grow very still, deadly still. She'd finally pushed him too far. Almost immediately, her fight or flight reflex kicked in, and she was trying to wrench herself across the bed to safety. Of course, he easily subdued her, using his own body weight to keep her flailing limbs from striking out at him.
"You may not be my child, but you are mine, and I will not have you undermine me with something as asinine as a question—unless you're protecting someone." His face grew curious, smirk returning to his mouth. "Who are you protecting, Rebecca?" He leaned down, and when she turned her chin away to avoid the not-quite-kiss, he traced a line down the column of her throat.
Swallowing dryly, Rebecca tried to focus, but her already drugged mind was only growing more disorganized as his mouth grazed her skin. Heat blossomed where his cool lips went, where his hands held her wrists, where his thighs pressed against her knees. She squeezed her eyes shut to try to refocus, but instead only succeeded in allowing her other senses to take over, intensifying the experience exponentially. Her skin grew overly sensitized, her lungs filling with air that fairly tasted of him, and she might have moaned (though she couldn't really be sure).
Eric nipped at the skin below her chin with blunt teeth, "Who would warrant such stubborn refusal out of you, I wonder. Tell me."
Rebecca shook her head vigorously, hoping to dispel the feelings coursing through her body at every passing second. Eric only seemed to grow more amused, lifting to rest on his forearms.
"I'm impressed. There are those who would have given in on the floor downstairs."
She exhaled softly, "I'm not them."
"I can see that," he mused, mostly to himself. "Enlighten me, Rebecca. Who are you?"
She blinked several times, confused, "Um, Rebecca. You're Eric. I'm Rebecca. I thought I was the one who was drugged."
Eric grew frustrated again, his eyes sliding into ice. "Can you answer a simple question, or are you incapable?"
"Yes."
"To which question?"
"Either, or both."
Eric growled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest and vibrating through her abdomen. She squirmed, giggling. "Tickles," she said.
"I'm glad you're amused," Eric intoned, clearly not used to having his desires thwarted.
They lay for a moment, each contemplating the other, a metaphorical circling of opponents before the next round of the fight. Every passing second forced the tension a bit higher, until Rebecca fairly writhed beneath the weight of his gaze.
Eric inhaled lightly, loosening his hold on her wrists, "You're not afraid of me."
"Not really, no, though I'm beginning to have a change of opinion."
He raised an eyebrow, "Really? How so?"
Rebecca shrugged, leaving the answer unsaid and letting him think what he wanted. She was growing more and more tired as the drugs pulled her under. It was entirely possible that the only reason she was even conscious at the moment could be attributed to her earlier intake of Eric's blood. She watched him warily, but begrudgingly allowed her mind to trace the clean lines of his shoulders, to take note of the pale contours of his face, the press of his body atop hers.
If she had the energy, she might have slapped a hand to her forehead in exasperation. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure that she was wholeheartedly attracted to him, and that she really needed to get him off her and out of her life. He was an unnecessary complication in her already complicated life and she seriously didn't need to deal with his frustratingly agile manipulation of her body while Brandon loomed in the sidelines.
Eric watched the expressions cross her face with rapt fascination, "What goes on in that head of yours?"
Rebecca licked her dry lips, "Right now? Not a lot. In case you haven't noticed—."
"Yes, you're drugged. I should thank the person who gave it to you. I have a feeling you're much more amiable like this, aside from your peculiar hard-headedness." They shared a smile, and Rebecca noted that he grew even more handsome as the muscles of his face flexed and loosened.
"You should do that more often. Smile, I mean," she slurred.
Eric brushed the hair away from her forehead, making a soft noise of acknowledgment, "You should wear less make up, you hide your natural beauty."
Rebecca's eyebrows furrowed, "I don't know whether to be offended or flattered." And then she realized that she'd used a match to line her eyes that morning, the faux shadow was probably smudged all to hell from her lifetime's worth of crying that night. She sighed, guessing that she looked a completely trashed—worthy of a mug-shot that could be viral on the internet.
"Listen," she said mildly, "I'm not caving, and I'd really like to get some sleep. I have an early shift tomorrow, an appointment with the attorney, and, in case you hadn't noticed, the front of the house is covered in blood that I'll have to clean up sometime. I promise I'll be good and try to keep my emotions in check." She held up two fingers, "Scout's honor."
"You really think you're capable?" He asked.
Rebecca yawned, "Really, really."
"Prove it," he challenged. There was a beat in which he allowed her to process his words, and then he swooped down to capture her mouth in a hard kiss. Stunned, Rebecca almost didn't know how to respond, but her body picked up where her mind left off, her mouth returning the kiss fervently. She groaned, gripping his shoulders to pull him closer. He tasted like sharp cayenne; all heat with a little bit of sweetness underneath. She ran her tongue over his lower lip, slipping it between his teeth to slide against his own. It was too much and not enough all at once, she tore her mouth away to gasp for air—something she was beginning to get used to in his presence.
When she glanced back at him, she noticed that his fangs had fully extended, and that his breath was just as labored as her own. She swallowed, waiting for him to ridicule her for her inability to control herself. He seemed to be struggling with something, probably trying to get a handle on her 'havoc' on his 'concentration'.
The moment was shattered as voices drifted from down the hall. Eric was standing and smoothing his hair down from where her hands had sunk deep into the softness—she could still feel it slide over her skin. She lazily tried to rearrange her own appearance, but quickly gave up, knowing it was useless. She was going to look a wreck until she showered and dressed tomorrow, and she might as well get used to it.
Sookie strode into the room, holding her bag, "What are you doing to her?" Her voice was hard, her expression fierce.
Eric shrugged, and Rebecca was momentarily stunned by the play of muscle that went into that simple movement. He seemed to catch her interest, because he shot her a sly grin. "Nothing that wasn't warranted, Sookie. If you'll excuse me, I'm needed at Fangtasia."
Before Sookie could protest or spit more fire, he was breezing out of the room. Rebecca managed to chuckle before sleep pulled her under. As she sunk into the pillows more deeply, she wondered at Eric's oscillating mood swings, deciding to think on it more the next day.
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