"Eric sent me out to bring you in the back," Pam told us through the glass. We could hear her easily.

She stepped back as Bill flung open his door in exasperation—was he trying to knock her down?—and pulled me out behind him. As I planted my feet on the parking lot, I knew he was agitated: normally, he would have come around the car to open my door for me and offer his hand to help me out. But tonight wasn't normal.

First of all, Pam was wearing an ice blue tuxedo shirt with the cuffs flipped back and dressy white pants. Her perfectly straight, snowy blond hair was loose down her back. These were not Pam's work clothes. If she wasn't working in the bar tonight, why was she here?

And suddenly, I was afraid. Eric knew. He knew I'd been turned, he knew we were coming, and he had asked Pam to… what? Witness him putting a stake through my heart? (I had seen Eric kill a few vamps—he was good at it in lots of different ways.) Hold Bill while Eric killed me? Hold me while Eric killed Bill?

Bill was still holding my hand from pulling me from the car, and I wasn't about to let go. I was surprised my voice didn't shake when I said, "Evening, Pam. You look nice tonight."

"Why Sookie, " Pam almost drawled, "You are positively… glowing."

A number of things happened very, very fast. Bill went into a crouch, hissing. I felt, rather than saw, his fangs run full out. Pam bent her knees, and brought up her hands, tilting her chin back just enough that the streetlights shone off her fangs. My own fangs ran out so fast they popped, and with completely controlled vampire speed, I stepped in between Bill and Pam.

Pam actually looked surprised. Then she burst out laughing and stood up straight. "Oh Sookie, this is rich. This is just too many things." In a gesture so out of character for Pam that I was taken aback, she took my hand and tugged me toward the door. I grabbed Bill's hand again and the three of us walked into the back of the bar.

Pam had to let go of me in order to go through the door, Bill held me back so he could enter first—he was as much on edge as I'd ever seen him. The bar music assaulted me—had it always been this loud?—and I smelled the crush of humans. I also heard them, and for the first time since my turning, I was conscious of my telepathy. It was still with me! I hadn't known if becoming a vampire would change that; in some ways, I might have been hoping it would go away. I reached out to Bill through our blood—I did not want Pam to hear me—Bill! I can hear the humans! I am still a telepath!

What I felt back from Bill was relief and amazement. He must have been wondering what turning would do to my gift, and I understood from him immediately that if I was still of use to Eric and the King of Louisiana, I would most likely be safe. Bill, however, was doubtful that he could feel the same about himself.

Pam preceded us into Eric's office, and stood aside for us to enter. Eric was at his desk, studying some papers, his lion's mane of blond hair falling over his face. He did not look up when we came in, nor did he look up for several excruciating minutes. If vampires could sweat, Bill and I would have been dripping. As it was, we bolstered each other's worry with as much love as we could muster. Which was a lot.

Finally, I couldn't take it any longer. I stepped up to Eric's desk, dropped my elbows down on it to bring my face in range of his vision, and said in my softest voice, "New vampire Sookie Stackhouse reporting to Sheriff Eric Northman."

At first, Eric didn't move, but I could see he wasn't reading the papers. One corner of his mouth barely tweaked up, then his nose crinkled adorably and he gave me the full force of his bright blue eyes. He hit me with every emotion in his vast arsenal: I was struggling to stand up straight under the inundation of pure glee, admiration, jealousy, anger, astonishment, merriment, irritation, puzzlement, and yes, maybe even love that Eric poured forth toward me. It physically rocked me back and Bill stepped in to steady me. Instantly, Eric closed up tighter than a drum and the look he gave Bill was 100 proof rage. It was cold, hard and I felt it through Bill.

"Bill." Eric said flatly. Bill did not respond. All his focus was on watching Eric and keeping track of Pam, who was standing just slightly behind us. "I seem to recall asking you once if you thought you could keep Sookie all to yourself," Eric mused, almost talking to himself. Eric's eyes were cold, and boring into Bill's. Bill did not flinch, nor did he look away.

Eric sighed, and shifted his gaze to me. Following Bill's lead, I held it. Eric continued speaking to Bill, while looking at me, "It seems you have found the way to do just that."

I did not know if my blood bond to Eric still held, but I had to assume it did, because he knew about me already. And I had certainly felt Eric's delight mixed in with all emotions with which he'd greeted me. I threw thoughts at him rapidly, reinforcing them with as much emotional truth as I could summon: Eric, I wanted this; I asked Bill for this. He did not force me—as a matter of fact, he was afraid to do as I asked.

One of Eric's exquisite eyebrows lifted, His chin went up in recognition of my thoughts and he leaned toward me. I got another rush of emotion from him, and mixed in with that: Then this was all your doing?

"Well," I spoke out loud, "not ALL; obviously Bill had to help."

Eric laughed at that, "Sookie, hadn't I told you that you would make a good vampire?"

I gave him a broad, genuine, heartfelt smile, and glanced at Bill. He was obviously puzzled at the partial exchange between me and Eric; just as he figured it out, I said to him by way of explanation, "It's the blood bond I have with Eric. It's still there."

Then I quickly turned back to Eric and told him, "So is my telepathy."

Eric looked shrewd. He was first and foremost a businessman. "How do you know?"

"There are a lot of humans in the bar tonight. Some of them are broadcasters. I can hear their thoughts loud and clear."

I could see—and feel—Eric decide something. He gestured to the chairs and said, "Sit. Both of you. Pam, would you get us a drink?"

Pam only nodded. Eric asked, "Bill? Still O Negative for you?" Bill nodded, once. "Sookie," Eric's voice was a purposeful caress, "What is your… pleasure?"

Just that fast, I knew I was safe. With the relief came an irrepressible urge to tease Eric.

"A shot of you in a glass?" I suggested with a seductive smile.

Pam snickered, Eric raised both eyebrows, and Bill almost choked. "Sookie will have the same," he rasped as if his throat was dried out.

Pam left the room, and Bill and I took chairs side by side, while Eric settled back in his behind the desk. He leaned on his elbows and studied us, but his expression was no longer hard.

"What's done is done," he said, ever the pragmatist. "Sookie, we will need to get you registered with the human government." At this, he pushed the papers he had been looking at when we entered across the desk to me; so he really and truly had known we were coming and what I had become. "Fill those out."

"We can take care of that online," Bill interrupted.

"And return them to me," Eric finished. He hated computers. Bill was a computer geek and Eric was, oh, maybe jealous? He had resented that Sophie-Anne used Bill's computer skills without his knowing. He was just going to have to get over that.

Pam returned with our bottles of TrueBlood, heated, and on a tray with glasses. Eric and Bill accepted theirs in the bottle, but I felt good enough to be curious about trying mine in a glass. The synthetic blood poured thicker than wine and was a lovely dark red with a copper sheen. It went down warm and salty.

Now Eric was truly all business. "Bill, I've been waiting for your report from the Russia trip. I had hoped…"

I interrupted, "Eric, I apologize for my rudeness, but we didn't come just tell you I'm a vamp—and since you obviously knew already and were playing at some kind of game to make us nervous, I'll cut right to the chase. What are you going to do about Niall?"

I heard Bill's faint intake of air, saw Pam's eyes fly to Eric's, and saw something dark flit super fast across Eric's handsome face.

"Sookie, your intoxicating scent must have enthralled me—I could swear I heard you ask me what I was going to DO about something."

"Cut the crap, Eric," I snapped. "I am under your protection by orders of the King—or has my new status changed that?"

Eric had the grace to look mildly chagrined.

"I was attacked. I landed in the hospital (I could almost hear Eric say the word 'Again'). I lost my…" Here I had to stop to compose myself; I would not cry about this right now. "…my baby girl. How, exactly, did this happen?"

Eric knew I was angry. So was he. So was Bill. It was a regular RageFest in Fangtasia.

"And what would you propose, my…" My eyes flashed fire at Eric, and he did not, as was his habit since the lost days he had spent with me while under the witches' spell, call me his lover. "…My Sookie?" he corrected. "That we go to war with the fae? That we start a holocaust that could mark the end for all of us and many, many more besides? Over a human child?"

That did it. I was on my feet and leaning over the desk at him, hitting him with the full force of my anger and my disappointment, and my soul-searing sadness. I spat at him, "She is MY child! And—not that it matters one bit—she is more fae than human!" I drew myself up as tall as I could and let Eric have it: "Or did you not protect me from Niall because you can't? Because you aren't all the mighty warrior you think you are?"

Now that was just wrong. And I knew it. But Eric always had a way of getting up under my fingernails, and I was just not having any of that tonight.

Bill and Pam were watching us face off over the desk, when Bill said in his calmest, most rational voice, "What is so special about this child that Niall would rip it from his great-granddaughter's womb?"

And that was the $64,000 question; it stopped us all in our tracks.