"Margaret, wake up," Eric's voice whispered.

"No," Peggy replied stubbornly, keeping her eyes tightly shut. She felt Eric press close against her, both of them naked in soft, silky sheets.

Peggy accessed her body. She felt hungry, but the hunger wasn't overwhelming… she felt refreshed… nothing hurt. Nothing hurt! She was healed. The only pain was the blinding lust that Eric was carefully extorting from her. She relaxed and opened to his touch. Opened her eyes. Saw they were in a dark room, carefully sealed, light tight. Eric smiled at her, his blue eyes bright and wicked. He reached out and touched a button near the bedside table and with a metallic groan the steel curtains began to rise to let in the New Orleans moonlight.

"Eric—"

"Not yet. I do not want to talk yet," he said firmly.

His lips touched her forehead, then her cheek, just above the cheekbone. Finally he claimed her mouth, tender, then demanding. She ground her lips against his, just as demanding. Not talking seemed like a good idea if this was the alternative.

Everything was still so blurry in her mind. She knew she should be thinking, should be sorting things out, but how could she push Eric away just now? She couldn't. She had never been able to do that.

He kissed his way down her throat and she arched her neck, waiting for the familiar sting of his teeth. Her grazed her skin with his fangs, but didn't sink them in the way he normally did when he possessed her as he was doing now. She raked her nails down the long, muscular white expanse of his back. His muscles worked as he ground her into the bed.

"Bite me," she demanded.

"No," he murmured. "Not tonight."

She let out a noise of frustration, but Eric only chuckled and did something with his tongue that told her he would not allow anything less than her full satisfaction. Once he had given her that, once they had both achieved that, he held her against him, their arms around each other, and she felt closer to him than she had in several months. Maybe this accident was a good thing.

But no, she reminded herself. It wasn't an accident.

"There was a woman with pink hair," she said quietly. "She did this to me."

"What can you tell me about her?"

Peggy thought for a moment, then shook her head. She related what details she could remember. "She is powerful. And—Eric! Sam and Lafayette!"

"They're here."

"Are they all right?"

Eric snickered. "Well… Sam thinks he is gay. Lafayette thinks he is married to Anne Marie."

"What?"

"They seem to have exchanged essential parts of their personalities," Eric said thoughtfully. "It is actually rather amusing."

Peggy wanted to ask how this was possible, but she knew that the only answers could be had from the pink-haired woman. "Did you bring them here?"

"More or less," Eric said, shifting his eyes so Peggy knew that she probably wouldn't like the answer of how that came to be. "There's one more thing, Margaret, and this puzzles me. Lafayette seems to have inherited Sam's shape shifting ability."

Peggy's eyes widened and her mouth opened in a round O. "That is astounding. I mean, Eric, how is that physically possible? Isn't shifting part of Sam's…genetic makeup…or…something?"

"I am not a scientist, Margaret," Eric said with amusement, but then, more seriously, "I am also certain that no shifter or vampire wishes to be scientifically analyzed. So barring that, we must take these events at face value. It is magic."

"So is the pink-haired woman a witch?"

"Or something else," Eric said, "But I do not know what. I only know that we have to find her and then, I will kill her." He said it so calmly, but the hard light in his eyes told Peggy he was deadly serious.

"She said she was going to use me as bait," Peggy said. "What if she's after you?"

Eric laughed. "Then she has my attention. But what could she want of me? I'm only a simple businessman."

"There is nothing simple about you, Eric, and you know it. With the sort of power she has already exhibited, she might be able to kill you."

"I am already dead," Eric said infuriatingly.

"I know, I know and you know what I mean!"

He smiled. "I do. Forgive my teasing. Now alas, we should get up, dress, feed, and then have a meeting to discuss this unfortunate situation."

"A meeting with Christopher?"

"Yes," Eric said, his dislike for her maker obvious in his terse reply. She ignored it for now.

"And Sam and Lafayette, of course, and…is Anne Marie here?" Peggy wondered who was taking care of the baby. Anne Marie would never bring her child into a dangerous situation. With a flash of shame Peggy remembered that she had attacked her friend's cousin Angelo last night.

Eric cursed softly in Swedish for a long moment. She met his gaze and knew he was holding something back from her, something he clearly wanted to tell her, but could not for a reason that later she was likely to find flimsy.

"What is it?"

"Christopher asked me not to tell you."

Peggy frowned. "Then whatever it is, it is a situation that amuses him. He loves tricks and games."

"Indeed he does."

"But you hold no love for him, Eric. Why keep this promise?"

"I can only guess that he might have a good reason. If he doesn't—well, this bit of information will be yours before dawn. Will you forgive me that?"

"Of course." Peggy smiled. "You are not one to ask for forgiveness, Eric."

"Things have been more tense between us lately than I would like," Eric admitted. "I do not wish to make it more so by holding back something."

"I love you," Peggy sighed, and kissed him again until they had to break apart or make love again. She would have preferred the latter, but she knew there was much to do tonight. She got back on track.

"Anne Marie is here," Eric said slowly. He hadn't forgotten her earlier question. "You will see her when she is ready to see you, I suppose."

"Is Angelo still alive? Is Anne Marie angry with me for attacking her cousin?" Peggy asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Eric looked frustrated for a moment, then composed himself. "I do not know," he admitted. "I suppose you will find out tonight. But why does this upset you so much? You needed to feed, so you took the closest food source. It is the vampire way."

"I can't hurt my friends or their loved ones," Peggy said. "I won't be able to stand it if I do."

"That feeling will die," Eric said calmly. "I am surprised that you still have it. Margaret, we are dangerous to everyone we encounter, including each other—but especially to humans."

"I tried so hard to maintain control. All that True Blood…" she heard the angst in her own voice.

"It was a facade," Eric said gently.

"Was it?" Peggy said bitterly.

"Do you feel safe now, with me?"

"Yes, of course."

"That is an illusion, too."

She met his gaze, feeling wounded. One bloody tear trickled down her cheek. He bent and licked it away. "No," she said in a choked voice. "It is not an illusion. I refuse to believe it."

In a flash Eric had her pinned to the bed with his hand at her throat. He squeezed slightly and she knew he could break her neck, could rip her head clean off. He was far stronger than her. She froze.

"Go ahead," she told them when he relaxed his grip and she could talk. "I am your creature, yours to love, and yours to kill. I am not afraid. If you want me to die, then I have no reason to live. So you see, Eric. I am safe with you."

He let go of her, his blue eyes wide and round. He bent his head and kissed the tender little spots on her throat that his tight grip had made. "Damn you," he whispered.

"Why?"

"For making me feel so strongly."

"Is that so bad?"

"When you were taken, when I thought you might be dead, I felt fear. I do not like to be afraid, Margaret!" His hand clenched into a fist, this time thankfully around the sheet and not around her throat.

She stroked his blond hair, twisted it around her fingers. The golden locks gleamed in the filtered moonlight. She let her hand trail over his broad, white shoulders. She said with her body the words that wouldn't come just then. How she loved him. How ingrained in her he had become!

Finally Eric sat up, kissed her again and climbed out of the bed. "Shower?"

She nodded. "A quick one. Christopher is waiting for us."

"Is he?"

"I feel his impatience," she said. The tie between Peggy and her maker, weak though it was and non-binding though it was, felt stronger when he was near. At the reminder of that bond, Eric frowned and stalked off into the bathroom.

Peggy slipped out of bed and followed, determined to improve his mood while they showered.

She did.

Immensely.