I squeezed one more in for y'all this weekend! Don't say I never gave you anything! Hope you enjoy! Also, the characters belong to Charlaine Harris---and the lamb line—Stephanie Meyer—I couldn't resist… it is one of my favorite quotes.
Dead to Me: Chapter Nine
SPOV
I stumbled into the house, a chunk of my jeans from knee to thigh missing. I felt as if I was one of those eighties girls wearing the exercise socks, just with denim instead. Subconsciously, I knew my breast was exposed, but it really didn't matter.
I knew I had noticed Amelia and Octavia hovering in the kitchen, and could see Amelia was on the phone. I heard her side of the conversation, but what I processed, well, it didn't matter, or at least if it did, I didn't know it.
"Oh Shit. She just walked in---what, I don't know---I don't see any blood, but if you can feel that something's not right--you really should come and see yourself. Sookie? Sookie?"
I walked past her and opened up the cutlery drawer next to the refrigerator. I pulled out the sharpest blade I could find, and held it downwards, aware enough not to pose danger to anyone else.
"Sookie… Sookie, what the hell are you doing?"
I slammed my bathroom door and flipped the lock. I didn't need anyone to tell me how dead my eyes were. I was aware of my exhaustion, my need for some form of comfort. I knew he would feel everything flowing through me. I didn't have anything left in me to control myself.
"Open this fucking door right now; I'm not kidding around, Sookie."
I turned on the faucet to drive out the pitch of her screaming—or maybe my choking sobs. I wasn't sure. I thought I heard her say something to Octavia but I wasn't sure. I braced myself for the smell of magic but nothing polluted the humid air around me. I pulled my hair out of its ponytail, in the process my neck flopped backwards at my strong jerk. I wasn't sure how long I had been standing there when I noticed the mirror had fogged up. I used my arm to clean the thick layer of water off the glass, but couldn't take my eyes away from the unhealed gash across my wrist.
Some part of me heard the doorknob separate from the door, and then the complete rip of the wood. It was hours later before I thought, "there goes another one." I lifted my eyes to meet his in the mirror. I grasped the stained hair between my palms and tilted my head to the side to alleviate the pressure. My other hand held the knife to the strands and continued to saw. I had to give him some form of credit for not looking away as I took away at least four years of memories, stained with true blood, my blood, tears, and shame. He didn't even look down at my naked breast when I completed the task and turned around to meet his gaze without any interventions.
Amelia gasped as she saw the whole consistency of my injuries. "What was it that bothered her," I wondered. Did she know he had made the three red gashes randomly interrupting the blemished blue, green, yellow, black, and white skin? Eric looked away from my gaze and took Amelia's waist between his palms. Out of the corner of his eye, I knew from his arousal, that he saw me undressing. He pivoted her body so she couldn't examine me further.
"Leave us."
She looked to me, unsure if this is what I wanted--If this was the right thing to do at that moment. Seeing me fully naked, she looked away. Something in me knew that it wasn't because of modesty; it was because she physically could not stomach the sight of me. She walked away, not because of assent to Eric's command, but because of her need for comfort. I knew she would call Trey if Octavia could not provide her with some form of distraction.
I bent over and turned on the shower. I did not care that he saw my body, unclean, unwashed, unshaved. If he hadn't wanted me up until this point, I hardly thought this would be the factor that would prevent him from ever changing his mind. Or maybe, in that moment, I didn't care. He held me back before I stepped into the water, sticking his hand beneath the raining water, gauging the temperature through his other icy hand clinging to my thigh. He let me go and I tried to lift my knee above the edge of the tub, unsuccessfully. His dampened emotions I felt through the bond did not change as he lifted me over the ceramic and I flexed my toes to stand balanced again.
I raked my fingernails along the white trail that stood between the bruises. The pain felt better than the dull ache of the recent memories and the tender bruises that covered every inch of me.
"Stop it," he said. I had forgotten for a moment that he could feel me. I was sure he could see me through the translucent shower curtain, but there wasn't any lust coming across. There was a part of me that wanted to beg him to fuck me sweetly. I wanted him to make me believe that he cared which he didn't. I wanted him to glamour me and tell me that he returned the sentiments of what I had said so clearly. But these two weeks, as long as they felt, did not pass more than a second since I had uttered those words.
"What happened to you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Really? Are we going to do this? Tell me, Sookie."
"What are you talking about?"
"Who took you? Where have you been? What made them let you go? Why didn't you call me?"
My mind flickered over the doubt. Should I tell him the truth? Why did I feel as if I couldn't trust him? And then there was the reminder of the factor of the near rape. I wasn't afraid of him. This wasn't the same thing as Bill. I knew it was a part of vampire nature, the bloodlust. With Bill, I could not forgive the mask, the betrayal without an ounce of unselfish remorse. They weren't the same thing—and never would be. Did I have the strength to allow every ounce of humanity to be ripped from my flesh?
I was foolish to give so much of me up. I realized that I was a teenager caught up in a love story. To think that the lion would fall in love with the lamb, and the lamb would survive—to think that his nature would change with my 27 year old mind games. I would be willing to do what he needed. I would die for him, but I will not allow myself anymore false hopes. All of this I had figured out on my time away, but with him, there, his emotions flowing through mine. It didn't seem as simple as I had prayed it would be.
"I didn't have my cell phone."
"You know that wasn't what I meant."
"No one took me, Eric. I needed some time to myself. I'm back in time for the summit."
"And you came back in tip top shape I see. What did you do a little hand to hand combat on your vacay?"
He was angry now. Furious. I slipped down to the bottom of the shower—allowing my shampoo to drip down past my already stinging eyes. I didn't need to tell him everything. I didn't need to tell him the force it took to batter my human body through the numerous portals to multi-colored swirling skies. I didn't need to tell him the time I spent crying at her feet, resisting any form of touch or healing power. I didn't need to tell him that my fairy blood could not prevent the wear and tear of my body--that I was hanging so loosely between sleep walking and death.
"I was training with Claudine in the fey world."
"Training for what? You couldn't have told me—why not here?"
"I didn't think you would notice. She seemed to think that I could be in danger over the last few weeks, so she decided to take me away for a little while."
"Danger—Danger from whom? And she left you in this condition? It is your responsibility to tell me these things. Just because you are Niall's granddaughter does not mean that I, as your bonded, do not matter. I am your protector. I am responsible for you. My fate lies in your fate."
"Get over yourself, Eric, I'm fine, I'm here as you wanted me, on time." I stood up and reached out for a towel and found him inches from my chest. He took a towel off the rack and moved towards me to pat me down. I screamed out at the first point of pressure and he flung back doubling over from the pain he felt from me. He emitted a growl, and came within' inches of my neck.
"I would never allow you to be in this condition."
"Just a few bruises less?"
"Don't make this out to be the same thing. We both know what that was."
I met his gaze, commanding me to disagree. I nodded.
"Stay there—I'm getting your things. Put this on," he handed me a robe and left through the broken doorway.
"Where are we going," I called out. He was within' inches of my face again, duffle bag hanging from his arm, and pressing a speed dial key on his telephone.
"You are coming to my home; I need you at the Summit. A payment has already been promised to Felipe and I will not risk letting you out of my sight, again."
He shook the robe around my shoulders but I was too weak to raise my arms into the sleeves. He seemed to realize this and I could hear him murmuring into his phone.
"Pam—call Dr. Ludwig and have her meet me at Caroline. Does this seem a time for questions? Go to that boutique of yours and find something for Sookie—I don't care if you have to wake up the gods—find something suitable for the Summit. I will meet you at Caroline in forty-five minutes."
"Food," I interjected.
"Pick up something from Wendy's."
He clapped the phone shut and examined me for a suitable way to pick me up.
"This is going to hurt," he warned as he grasped me in the same place when he had raised me into the shower. Suddenly, I was no longer numb. He groaned with my agony and with a sharp pain to the back of my head everything went dark.
