Author's Note: Hello lovely readers! I wanted to apologize for this chapter, it has been quite a pain. I first published it a couple days ago and I thought I was very happy with it. Then, I spent the better part of that day trying to write the next chapter. I wrote chapter 10 about three different ways, trying to find a way to get it to fit into the original version of chapter 9. Finally, that night, I realized that I had to rewrite this chapter or the rest of the story would just be disrupted. I'm very sorry to all my readers who read the original version of chapter 9, this version isn't quite as exciting, but it also leads better into the next great excitement of this story.

Disclaimer: I own Gemma Leland and part of the plot associated with her. The rest of the characters and plot belong to Alan Ball, the creator of True Blood, and Charlaine Harris, the author of the Southern Vampire Mysteries.


Chapter 9

Eric Northman

I pulled into the parking lot of Fangtasia, screeching to a halt in front of the door. I was fuming, furious that Gemma had ventured out into those woods alone. Gemma had left Sookie's house without a word to me, so I just assumed she was following my instructions to go back to Fangtasia. Shortly after, I carried the body of the werewolf to the cemetery, Sookie beside me, and buried it in a fresh grave. As I led her back to her home, Sookie informed me, to my chagrin, that she was going to go to Jackson to find Bill. It was a dangerous mission she was going on and I would not be able to protect her during the daylight hours. As she spoke, I remembered a werewolf who was in my debt, Alcide Herveaux, one of the few werewolves I would trust to watch over Sookie in my absence. As I made the decision to contact him right away to discuss my plan, something Sookie said caught my attention.

"What did you just say?" I demanded, my eyes suddenly locking on hers. Her face reddened, telling me she had let something slip that I was not meant to hear. She remained silent for a few seconds, obviously weighing the options of repeating herself, but she could tell that she had already let the cat out of the bag and there was no getting it back in.

"Gemma went into the woods to see if there were any other werewolves out there," she admitted, rubbing her arm in a show of embarrassment.

"And why would she do that?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even, despite the rapid rise of my temper.

"She needed to know if there were any others who could tell her how she became a vampire. She did not want you to know," she said softly. Suddenly, looking desperate, she put her hand on my arm. "Please, do not get mad at her."

I did not answer her. Instead, I turned around and took off running down her driveway as fast as I could move. I was furious that Gemma had done something so stupid and reckless. I was even more furious at Sookie for not telling me right away about Gemma's plan. Most of all, though, I was worried. Those werewolves were dangerous, much more dangerous than Sookie or Gemma could possibly understand. They were a challenge, even for me, a vampire who had been alive for over a thousand years. Gemma was no match for them, especially when they were on V. The werewolves that had attacked her the night before had obviously sampled some vampire blood, but they were young and stupid, which made them fairly easy to kill. They had been sent out because they were disposable. This werewolf that they had sent out after Sookie, however, was much stronger and the sight of my blood sent him into a frenzy that I almost couldn't contain. The people who were staying behind were the leaders, more valuable and, therefore, stronger. If Gemma was found by them, there was no way she would be able to overpower them.

When I reached the end of the driveway, I stopped to decide what I would do. The woods were large and even with my speed and heightened senses, it would be impossible to scan the whole area for her. I decided to head to Fangtasia, hoping that she had made it out alive and would be there.

I ran to the edge of the cemetery where I had left my car, jumped in and quickly pushed the pedal to the floor. Very shortly, I was in front of my business and running into the building. I knew Pam was downstairs, cavorting with the human, so I went straight to my office.

When I threw open the door, Gemma was pulling her shirt over her head. I was able to glimpse her breasts, neatly tucked into her lacy bra, before they were covered by her shirt. Her brilliant green eyes widened in shock when she realized that I was the one standing in the doorway. I found myself once again taken aback by her beauty, just as I had been the day before in the hotel room. For a few seconds, I forgot why I had stormed into the room. Quickly enough, though, the fury returned.

"What the hell were you doing out in those woods?" I demanded, stepping forward so only an inch separated she and I. She took a small step back, trying to create distance, but I matched it. We repeated this ritual until she was pressed up against the wall.

Her green eyes were vibrant and this close, I realized her pupils were lined with chocolate brown and flecked with gold. I got caught in her cautious stare, nearly unable to pull myself away. A flood of feelings burst forth, nearly drowning me. I wanted to protect her, to hold her to shake her for putting herself in so much danger.

The fright radiating from her was tangible. She shrunk back against the wall, terrified by the expression of rage on my face. Within a second, though, she seemed to find some strength within herself. She straightened up, appearing resolute, as she looked into my face. Her expression was replaced by that of unyielding disgust.

"I went looking for more werewolves," she shouted in my face. "I need to know what happened before I woke up in that grave. I need to! And you won't help me find out. You don't give a shit about anyone but yourself, you self-absorbed son of a bitch!"

My fangs extended as my fury began to grow. Few vampires, especially fledglings, dared to get in my face or upset me. This baby vampire, with no understanding of our hierarchy or her place in it, deserved to die for her open disrespect of me. But I had to admit I was amazed by her audacity, even a little thrilled.

"You are a fool, you are a child. Those werewolves would have ripped you apart if they found you. You have no knowledge of your abilities and they would have destroyed you without any effort," I shouted back, bending over slightly so my face was even closer to hers. She flinched slightly, unsure of what I would do to her. I took advantage of my upper hand and grabbed her shoulders, making it clear that I was more powerful than her and she would listen to me.

"I'm sorry, Eric," she managed to whisper, fear and loathing coloring her face.

I thought I would feel victorious when I managed to put her back in her place, but instead, I felt guilty. She looked miserable and dejected, much as she did the first night I found her. Those same irritating emotions began to fill me against my will.

"I was sure you would be killed," I admitted before I could stop myself.

Gemma Leland

For a second, I thought I had misheard him. His voice was so full of emotion, something that I did not believe Eric was capable of. As he looked down at me, his anger totally melted away, revealing an expression I could not quite define. All the hateful thoughts that had been churning suddenly fell away when I looked into his eyes.

I felt lost in his crystal-blue stare, as if I were hypnotized. Something passed between us, a silence filled with so many unsaid words, unexpressed emotions. My gaze moved down momentarily to his slightly-parted pink lips, then back up at his eyes, unsure of what I was feeling. His closeness, which before had felt suffocating, suddenly felt comfortable, even intimate. I was overcome with the urge to kiss him.

It was Eric that finally broke the meaningful silence. "You will not do anything that stupid ever again," he stated matter-of-factly, bringing me back to reality. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Eric," I said breathlessly. Something about saying his name in that moment made my heart jump. It felt strangely intimate.

For a moment, Eric stiffened. Then, without warning, Eric turned on his heels and walked out of the room, silently shutting the door behind him.

I waited until I could no longer hear Eric's steps anymore before I dared to move. When he was out of earshot, I walked over to the couch, collapsing back onto it. I stared up at the ceiling, clasping my hands on my chest.

I did not see Eric for the remainder of the night. I tried my best not to think about the moment in Eric's office. It was nothing, I kept telling myself, just a peculiar reaction to the passion of our confrontation. The past few days had been incredibly stressful and I was just being irrational. When I emerged from his office, over an hour had passed since he walked out, enough time for me to convince myself that everything was the same as before.

Pam took me to a nearby human's house to shower. Thankfully, the house was vacant, though that didn't make me feel much better about breaking and entering. I knew I needed to clean up, though, and it was better than nothing.

"So where is Eric?" I asked when I emerged from the bathroom, my body wrapped in a towel as I mopped casually at my hair. "He said he was going to take me to Queen What's-Her-Name tonight."

"I know," she sighed, giving me an approving once-over. I suddenly became very self-conscious. "It seems that he won't be able to take you for a few days. Eric has some very important business to take care of with an associate, and then he will take you to Sophie-Anne."

I growled, unhappy with this new development. Sophie-Anne seemed to be my only ticket out of this hell-hole and possibly back home. The other vampires did not seem to like her, but I had not heard a reason why.

Without another word to Pam, I turned and walked back into the bathroom to change into the jeans and v-neck shirt I had brought with me. It seemed more practical to wear these to sleep, considering upon waking I had several miles to run in order to get to Fangtasia.

As I walked away from her, I heard Pam say, "Well, well, maybe she could be a little fun, after all."


I had not dreamed since I was turned, but that night in the mausoleum, I had a dream about my mother.

I was young, about seven or eight years old. The child version of me with long, tangled red hair and dirty clothes was standing on the sidewalk of a somewhat seedy street in downtown Chicago. My mother was nowhere near me and I looked terrified. A man in a suit turned a corner and began walking toward me. Zeroing in, I quickly ran over to him.

"Mister, can you help me," I asked, the image of a pathetic, sad, homeless child. The man, who had been talking rapidly on his cell phone, hastily hung it up and got down on one knee to be at eye-level with me.

"Little girl, what is the matter?" he asked, putting his big hands on my shoulders.

"It's my mommy," I said, my voice wavering, "she won't wake up."

"What is your name?"

"Gemma."

"What do you mean she won't wake up, Gemma?" he asked, his thick brown eyes knitting together.

"I keep shaking her and poking her and she won't move. She's back here," I said, taking his big hand in my little one and leading him down a nearby alley. About halfway down the alley was a dumpster. Beside the dumpster lay a thin woman with wild, unkempt blonde hair and track marks all over her arms.

It was my mother.

The second the man saw my mother on the ground, he ran over to her, kneeling down beside her immobile body. I came up beside him, leaning up against him, a frightened child looking for any kind of human connection.

"Gemma, your mommy needs help. I'm going to call 9-1-1 so that someone will come help her, okay?" he asked, turning to look at me over his shoulder. With eyes wide and shiny with tears, I nodded, taking a step back. As I took a step back, I bumped the man's shoulder a little bit, keeping his attention away from the wallet I slipped out of his pocket.

I turned to the side, hiding the wallet from the man who had pulled his cell phone from his pocket. As he began to dial for the police, my mother's eyes sprung open. With a scream, she shoved the man away with all her might, making him stumble backward and fall on his back with a thud. My wild-looking mother jumped up and ran, scooping me up in her arms.

"You did good, Gemma," she whispered in my ear as she ran toward the end of the alley. Just before we rounded the corner to the road, my eyes met the big, shocked eyes of the man I just stole from.

Before he could even realize what happened, we were gone.