A/N: As always I wanted to thank everyone who's been reviewing, alerting and favoriting this story. I'm beyond grateful to you!
Thanks so much as well to my beta Northman Maille. You're such an ace and I'm totally fangirl/girl crushing on you!
So shall we see what happens to Sam? There was very mixed reaction to his fate. Some people thought he had it coming some people were hoping for an intervention. I promise it's all for a purpose!
Disclaimer: I own nothing…I'm just giving Sookie some anger management issues.
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As he drew closer to her, he felt himself nearly overpowered by the strength of her emotions. She was elated, satisfied, spent in the most primitive of ways. Had he not been a Vampire these thousand years her emotional state might have puzzled him, he might have mistook it for any number of other things. As it was he knew the way her blood sang and her body tingled, as though every single nerve ending was alive again, meant he was too late.
The sight that greeted him when he finally touched down on the lonely stretch of grass by the highway was unneeded confirmation. Sookie stood over the remains of a body, her hands, face, hair and dress stained in copious amounts of blood as she tossed an object up into the air and caught it repeatedly. The shape, smell and squishy sound the object made each time it came in contact with her hands left no doubt: it was the shifters heart she'd made a toy of.
She was aware of his presence, he knew this, but it was still unexpected when she turned to him, a giggle in her voice, and bid him to catch before tossing the organ at him. The thing touched his hand for only a second before finally splattering into a soggy mess and dripping from his fingers onto the dirt around his feet.
He took everything in as she began to walk slowly towards him. The ground was awash in yet more blood, the body was no longer intact, but the pieces of it that had been ripped off still lay close by, and the shifter's truck was just a few hundred yards behind them.
Still he said nothing as he watched her make her way to him. It took the restraint of ten centuries to do nothing more than drink her in with his eyes as her hips swayed seductively, her mouth and fangs dripped with blood, and her eyes glittered with the violent delight of her first kill. He had told her killing for sport was strictly forbidden, and yet hadn't Merlotte threatened to separate them? Had he not attempted to make good on his threat by bringing Victor to Fangtasia tonight?
At any other time in his history what she'd just done would be looked at as nothing more than the proper justice for attempting to interfere with a mated, bonded pair. At any other time it wouldn't have stopped with the foolhardy shifter, Compton too would have suffered a similar, but far more public, fate.
When she finally reached him they stood a moment just looking at each other. It was hard at first to tell what was coming from herself and what was coming from him, emotions, strong and charged, zinged along their bond so fast. But at length she could tell the conflict she felt was his. He was at war with himself over what she'd done and how he should react. His instincts told him one thing, his conscience another.
She knew he was proud of her. She hunted the shifter, lured him and finished him off all on her own after all. Yet she also sensed he was angry with her for sneaking away, perhaps for murdering after he told her she was not to purely for sport, maybe for something else too, she couldn't be sure. Jutting her chin out she spoke again, her eyes glittering not just with violence now but with defiance as well.
"I accept whatever punishment you think is fitting. He wouldn't have stopped causing problems for us. He deserved it and I'm not sorry." She would have said more, but before she could think of anything else, his mouth was on hers, his arms crushing her to him with such force that if she'd needed to breathe she would have passed out.
Giving in to his instincts for single moment, Eric licked the blood from Sookie's fangs and lips. He'd never been fond of the taste of shifter or were but when licked from her skin the blood took on a sweetness which made it very nearly perfect.
Sookie clung to him elated and excited all at once, plundering his mouth every bit as ferociously as he did hers. She knew this undercurrent she felt, this need for violence and blood was not something which existed solely in her. Being so closely connected to him she could feel the breadth and depth of his own darkness and she longed to bring it out, to revel in it together.
When they fed, when they mated, when they drank it seemed as though she could almost touch the beautiful darkness that lived inside of both of them, immerse herself in it, drown in its deliciousness. When he held her like this, took command of her body, as he did right now, and lost control of his own, she could almost touch something else as well: the place inside herself which was blank, the memories and the feelings that lived just beyond her reach.
She knew she'd loved him before her turning. She needed nothing and no one to tell her that. She was sure it wouldn't take very much for her to fall in love with him again. He was her Maker, her bonded, her lover and her mate, being with him, it was just…right! But as he pushed her away from his body suddenly, pulling his control firmly back around him and denying them what they both so desperately wanted, she knew she couldn't give her heart to him fully, because she no longer had his completely.
The woman he loved was the woman she'd been, not the Vampire she was now. The woman he longed for was the Human with morals and memories, not the creature who had rent a man apart, nearly limb from limb, only scant minutes before. No matter how much a part of him wanted to simply let go she knew he would not. There was a fear inside of him she didn't understand, but she could feel it as clearly as she could feel her arms or her legs, and it asserted itself now, putting a space between them she hated. When he spoke it was all sense and logic.
"We must clean this up before someone finds it." He said, his baser instincts once again tempered. "We will have words about the rest later."
With that he began to move at his fastest pace, putting the remains of the shifter in the cab of his truck and then ramming it with all of his might into one of the bigger trees standing just beyond where she'd killed him. When the car was suitably destroyed Eric opened the fuel door and dropped a lit match inside, before turning, grabbing her, and streaking further down the road.
The explosion was spectacular, a bright, hot, nearly white ball of flame that consumed the truck in only moments. To anyone who found it, the mess would look as though Merlotte had lost control of the car and skidded into a tree, causing his truck to catch fire. As the grassy ground around the truck caught as well, the blood staining it was consumed too. The Human authorities would have no evidence to show he'd been killed before being put into the car. It might not stop them from asking questions, but they would have no proof to back it up.
When Eric was sure there was nothing left to find, he shot into the sky with Sookie in his arms. Their flight back to Shreveport was silent, and though his face never wavered from its icy expression, Sookie could feel the tempest churning within him. His emotions were nearly as unstable as her own, careening from one extreme to another before shifting course. He was anxious, then determined, proud then angry, his love for her flickering on and off in the background the farther inside his own thoughts he went.
When they entered the house, the force with which he slammed the door behind them set the windows to rattling. Still he said nothing, choosing instead to walk right past her and down the stairs to their chamber.
"What will you do?" She asked finally, wishing he'd yell or break things… anything but continue on in his stony outward silence while his emotions continued to make her almost literally dizzy.
"Nothing." Was his single word reply as he began to shed his clothes, stained from moving the shifters remains and from holding her own soiled body against his. Walking past her yet again he stalked naked into the bathroom and started the shower.
"You said we'd have words, so have them!" She yelled as she followed behind him, not sure what else to do.
One second he was in front of her, his back to her, the next, faster than even her Vampire eyes could track he'd ripped the stained dress from her body and pulled her under the hot spray with him.
"You want words?" He spat at her. "What the fuck would like me to say? I have already explained to you that you cannot kill for pleasure! There was no direct threat, you did not lose your temper or your control, you waited for the moment to be in your favor and you struck. You killed simply to kill, after I TOLD you not to!"
Sookie felt his anger like a physical slap to the face but she would not back down from it. Wrenching her shoulders from his grasp, she felt her fangs slam down in fury.
"Don't be sanctimonious and don't pretend you give a shit about his life. He deserved it and you know it!" She spat back.
"No," he countered a sneer in his voice, his own fangs slamming down, "I don't give a shit about the shifter, but I do give a shit about you and me and the Vampires who owe me their fealty: all of whom you have jeopardized tonight with your little snit of temper!
Merlotte was seen and heard having an argument with us in public just hours before he mysteriously loses control of his car and careens off the road to his death. Who do you think they will suspect? I am Sheriff of this area, it is my duty to keep the peace between the races and order among my Vampires, and my own bonded child has murdered a prominent shifter over nothing! If you were any other Vampire I would put you in silver and starve you for a month for what you've just done!"
"Then do it! I told you I'd accept the punishment." She challenged.
The moment could easily have gone another way, but Eric had never struck someone weaker than himself before, and he had no intention of starting with his own wife. So instead, he pulled her to him, one hand fisting almost painfully into her hair, the other nearly crushing her hip, and slanted his mouth down hard on hers. If he could not give into his desire for violence then he would not fight his desire for her body a moment longer.
Their fangs clashed violently, their tongues fought each other for dominance as Sookie met him anger for anger, frustration for frustration. But for once it was she who broke them apart, gasping unnecessarily for air against the crushing force of the lust they felt for each other, but determined not to let it distract her from winning the argument.
"You're proud of what I did, why can't you admit it?" She asked, as her eyes nearly bore holes into his own.
The angry noise he let out was more like the howl of an enraged animal than any coherent sound a man might make, as it bounced off the shower tiles, and it would have cowed another. But she just couldn't let it be! Of all the character traits Sookie had possessed as a Human, the one that simply had to survive her turning and memory loss intact was her apparent lack of self-preservation.
"BECAUSE YOU CANNOT KILL WHENEVER THE FANCY TAKES YOU!" He bellowed, pushed past any semblance of his usual patience or restraint.
"It wasn't just fancy! You said so yourself, he challenged you…publically. YOU," she hissed out the word," should have been the one to kill him!" Her voice suddenly went low and venomously cold, her implication that he'd failed both as a Maker and a leader clear.
Eric felt all the fight leave him at those words. They had been staring each other down the entire time, each one daring the other to look away first and concede defeat, each one obstinately refusing to. He did so now, lowering his eyes to shower floor, focusing on her dainty little feet where they stood toe to toe with his much larger ones.
"And so the story will go if anyone should ask." He sighed, feeling an exhaustion that had nothing to do with the physical need for sleep.
"What?"
"The Humans can be glamoured to believe the shifter's death was an accident, but should other supernaturals ask, the story will be that I killed him for challenging my right to you." The soul weary exhalation that accompanied his words seemed to deflate the last of her anger as well.
"But…." Sookie stared at him disbelieving.
"This is for your protection Sookie. Now say it." He ordered.
Sookie felt the force of his will, but knew she was not being commanded to obey. Eric wanted her to understand the gravity of the thing and to agree to it freely.
"You killed Merlotte." She parroted quietly, as she too lowered her face to the floor.
He nodded his approval to her and even though she didn't want to admit it, she began to feel something like remorse for what she'd done. Not because the shifter hadn't deserved his death and not because she hadn't enjoyed killing him, but because she realized she'd put her Maker in a terrible position.
She'd defied him and taken matters into her own hands. She'd done something he would ordinarily punish another for without a second thought. If word got out that he could not control his own child he would look weak, weaker than any petty challenge by Merlotte had made him seem. If he took responsibility for it instead, it would make him look petty, violent, possibly unstable, everything a leader should not be. But in order to protect her he would take the blame and the consequences of letting people believe he had been the one to act rashly.
Into her suddenly collapsing mood he poured pride through their bond.
"I always knew you'd make a ferocious Vampire." He whispered to her, lifting her face so their eyes could meet once more.
She knew he meant it to be a balm. She had done wrong, they would have to cover it up, but he was proud of her, at least in part, for the strength and the cunning she'd shown tonight. Somehow though, it wasn't quite enough.
"And yet, you're so unhappy." Sookie's eyes searched his for a moment more, maybe hoping for answers, probably knowing she wouldn't like it if she got them. Then the sound of the curtain moving against the rod came and with a gust of air she was gone, leaving him alone in the shower.
When he emerged from the bathroom minutes later she was already lying on the bed, the covers pulled haphazardly to her waist, her back to him. It was still and hour and a little bit before dawn, but he could tell she hadn't succumbed to the sun's pull yet.
Easing in next to her, he pulled her against his body and although she said nothing, she came willingly. It was an insidious thing sometimes, the bonds they shared. It was almost as though those invisible but unbreakable ties compelled them to seek comfort and affection from each other, even when they were the cause of one another's misery.
And even when they made each other unhappy, as they'd just done, the feeling of skin touching skin, of arms and legs twining together, of her head falling back on his chest and their lips meeting half way between the space that had existed was like a palliative to all their ills.
For the first time since she'd risen to this life, their joining was soft…gentle. With no clothes hindering their movements, their hands explored each other. They caressed and enticed one another, hers dancing along his strong legs as they parted her thighs, coming to rest on the tight globes of his bottom as he positioned his body over her. His delighting in the dangerous curves of her hips before settling on the bountiful swells of her breasts, squeezing and plucking them as her torso rose to rub their sensitized peaks against his chest.
With dawn so close they both knew there was little time for the more exotic acts they'd indulged in over the last few nights, but it hardly mattered. The pleasure they both felt as he united their bodies, their mouths still fused together, was as unbelievable as it ever had been.
They moved together slowly…strongly, swallowing each other's cries as though the breathy, blissful sounds had the power to heal what was wrong between them. With each thrust of his long, sure thrusts she could believe the love he felt was truly for her, and not for the person she'd been, the person who was lost to them both. And with each squeeze of her exquisite tightness around his aching shaft he could almost convince himself that he wasn't trapped, loving each Sookie but unable to give himself to either of them fully and therefore failing them both.
They reached the peak together just moments before the sun broke free of the eastern horizon, their sounds of pleasure a single keening cry just before Sookie succumbed for the day and Eric willingly followed, still entwined and yet falling apart.