Where do I start? I want to say a massive thank you, and an apology for taking so long to update. I had a busy week, studying, so I hope you'll forgive me and that this update is worth the wait. Love you all so much, you're all so amazing and your enjoyment of this story really surprises me, especially when it's a bit unusual and weird. So, thank you all! :D x
Chapter Ten
Through the haze of bright morning light seeping through my curtains, I squint my eyes, and as they slowly adjust to it, I discover Eric resting his head against the pillow across from mine, smiling broadly. He looks less... grumpy and about five years younger, when he smiles. Our eyes instantly meet and lock; Brown ones, meeting blue ones. Our faces are so close together, that our noses are almost touching.
"Good morning, Perky," he murmurs amusedly. "And what a morning it is."
"I thought I told you?" I grumble. "You don't have permission to come into my room, and now... here you are, in my bed with me?" His smile widens, as he shifts over onto his stomach. He leans an elbow slowly against his pillow, and peers down at me deeply. My heart races like a mad thing in my chest. He brings one of his feet over under the sheets to hook it over one of mine, and it's then that I feel it; A whole length of bare skin pressing into the side of me... Oh, golly. He's naked. Naked, in my bed with me. And amused. Since when?
"Do you forget?" He asks me dryly. "You had a change of heart. You didn't want me leaving, after all, which confirms my suspicions." He leans down and whispers, against my mouth, very pompously, "You fucking like me being in here." Well, at least he hasn't lost that filthy mouth of his.
I feel my brows pull together in confusion. "I did? I asked you to stay in my bedroom with me?"
"Yes, you did." Funnily enough, I can't remember ever doing that. He seems so confident that I did, though. So, maybe I did? "Well, I'm glad you're awake now. I'd hate for these things to go to waste." Just like that, a huge porcelain bowl appears between his hands. Whoa, Mama.
He picks whatever it is contained inside the bowl out with his fingers, and brings it over to my mouth. He glides that wet something over my lips, coercing me to open my mouth, his gaze intent on me.
"Eat the fuck up, my human," he says, almost in a daring and sensual type of way. I open my mouth, obeying, and let him slip that round something into my mouth. It's weird, round like grapes. Only, it doesn't taste like grapes, or any other round fruit; It has an odd salty tinge to it, and when I sink my teeth into it, it bursts open, full of the flavour of... blood?
"How do you like those eyeballs?" he asks casually, picking out another one with his large fingers. Eyeballs? What?
He shows it to me, and I groan. Round eyeballs, of different colored pupils. Brown, blue. Grey. Oh my God!
I gag, and bring a hand up to my mouth.
"I cut them out for you myself. It is how much I fucking like you."
"No!" I gasp in disgust, trying to swallow it down. I'm going to be sick. I feel violently ill. Oh, my God!
"You see, this is why you and I are much the same," he goes on ruthlessly. "Blood-thirsty. Cannibals." He pauses and glances down at the eyeball he is holding in his fingers, pops it into his mouth, and chews slowly, without even the slightest hint of a cringe in revulsion. He cocks his head to the side, and makes a very low and deep groan of delight. "Fucking delicious." He turns to look at me, his eyes glinting with excitement. "Well, how goes it? How about another fucking eyeball, for my beloved Perky Blood-bag?"
I scream, and thrash against my pillow.
And then I'm in the safe confines of my bedroom again, huddled in bed, with my nightgown and no creepy, naked, cannibal Eric force-feeding me eyeballs. Just a dream. Oh, what a relief. Never have I experienced a dream so odd, though. And this was the oddest one of the lot.
After my crazy dream last night, I can't say I wanted to attempt to go to sleep again anytime soon. At work, I offer to stay in and complete the latest shift, which Sam felt very surprised and grateful for. Hey, it beats sleeping, and I sure didn't want any horrible reoccurrences of that dream last night, featuring Eric Northman. The longer I stay awake, the better, in my view.
By eleven o'clock at night comes, already, I'm dead on my feet, but I try to perk myself up, as much as possible. The bar was busy tonight, and hectic, I was failing at keeping my mental guard up. I think fatigue kind of made it harder, so soon, I was hearing unwanted thoughts from left, right, and centre.
There were a whole lot of unimportant things I learned this evening, of some of the customers: One guy, who worked as part of the construction crew with my older brother, was itching to get home and download the new Maroon 5 C.D to his IPod. Another male, about in his late sixties, wished my shorts rode up a little higher so he could see more of my thighs. And Sam, my boss, oh Sam... apparently he was having this internal debate on whether I was wearing a bra tonight- which I was, of course, I never go without one. So, in all things considered, tonight was pretty lousy for me, and I had trouble with keeping even a simple smile on my face, as I greeted the customers.
Just when I got to thinking my brain was about to explode... it happens. The amazing silence waves over me gloriously, when the door of Merlotte's opens, and a person comes in. He's no doubt a vampire and, maybe, in the back of my mind, I prayed it was Eric. Only, when I turn into the direction of that brilliant silence- half-assed smile in place, and all- my stomach sank. It wasn't Eric, much to my dismay. But it was another male vampire, who was sliding into a vacant booth.
He is shorter than Eric, and dressed in simple clothes; A white tight, long-sleeve V-necked shirt, and an old pair of khaki colored trousers, with polished brown loafer shoes that my Grandfather might have even chosen to wear had I ever met him. He certainly wasn't going out of his way to make himself known as a vampire, like Eric had, when he met my Grandmother. No, he looks rather... ordinary.
He looks up at me, and his lips curl into an inviting smile. He hasn't got his fangs out on display either, which was a relief within itself. He's clearly waiting for me to serve him, so I get my brain back into gear, and work my tired limbs over to his table, clutching my pen and notepad.
"Good evening," he greets me pleasantly. For some reason, he strikes me as very familiar; Its the voice, and the wiry dark hair, that makes his complexion look sickening and pale. Why is he so damn familiar to me?
It takes me a moment to get my head straight again. "Yes, Good evening. Welcome to Merlotte's. What can I get you?"
"You have any bottles of that synthetic blood available?" I almost laugh out loud. He just makes me feel funny, and not entirely in a good way.
"Uh, sorry," I say unapologetically. "We don't, actually. I mean, we did... a few months ago, but they went bad." That was certainly an understatement; Arlene Fowler almost vomited, when one evening she went out back to check up on stock. There was an odd smell originating from the casket that held our bottles of True Blood Sam ordered inside, and when she plucked one open, maggots were wriggling inside. We had to toss them out in the trash like yesterday. "And Sam never thought of getting anymore in stock. We don't get vampires in here very much."
"Oh." An embarrassed look comes across his white face. "Am I that obvious?"
"Well, I think you asking for True Blood sort of gave you away, Mister." Not to mention the silence. "Can I get you anything else, maybe?"
"Well, you might as well get me a glass of water, so I don't look like a fool sitting here."
"Sure. I'll be right back with your water."
But soon as I got him a glass, it's already too late. Now he has two people sitting with him, two human low-lives, who I fondly refer to as The Rats. Mack and Denise is an engaged couple, roughly in their middle thirties. They were into drugs, I'm pretty sure. And, as I stroll over and set his glass of water by his elbow, it turns out their drug of choice tonight wasn't going to be heroin, or weed. No, I caught Mack's thoughts, and heard him clearly, and what I heard sickened me to the core. He was thinking of luring this vampire outside, and draining him, so that they could shoot up some of his blood.
"Don't you be too trusting with these two," I warn the vampire, who gives me an odd look. He's quite clearly questioning my sanity, but tough titties.
"Oh, don't mind that little girl, Mister," Mack laughs in his repulsive voice. He set a hand on the vamp's shoulder, like they were the best of friend's. "She's mad as a hatter."
I give Mack a very sour look, and dart off.
As the later hours of the evening closed in, we were about ready to close up for the night. I keep my eyes on the vampire, as much as I can, to make sure he's obliging in what I said. But when I bend down for a second to retrieve a rag to start wiping over the counter, a second is obviously time enough. When I look over again, all three of them are gone.
Damn it all!
"Sam, I'm just going to step out for a minute," I tell him, as calmly as possible. I'm all keen for preventing terrible things from happening to others, like no doubt the one this vampire was about to face. I waste no time in running out the door.
"Sookie?" Sam calls after me. I ignore him, and I'm very good at it.
This vampire should have heeded my warning, only he didn't. He was too trusting, and probably believed himself to be infallible. I knew better, though.
When I get outside, I hear the noises before I see them. Mack and Denise are screaming at the top of their lungs, gleeful in their victory. I race after them desperately, following the noise. I find them crouched down low over the vampire in the bushes.
"You better get away from that vampire this instance," I scream at the pair of them, trying to make my voice appear as menacing and deep as Eric's when he yells. "Or else I'm gonna go crazy on your asses!"
They startle at the sound of me, and whirl around to face me.
"Oh, you crazy little girl," Mack says unpleasantly. He turns his knife to me, and he looks real determined on stabbing me with it. "Can't keep your big nose out of nothing, can you?"
"I'm just doing what any decent human being would do, and that's keeping you two away!"
Mack swore bitterly underneath his breath, and without warning, he lunges at me. I can't say I was really expecting that. I put up a decent fight, and my body works with me. I think it was the fear of getting stabbed that was doing it. And then, something strange happens: He backs away from me fearfully, looking at something past my shoulder, and by accident, I'm presuming, his fingers loosen over his knife. It plops down into the dirt, and then his legs tremble and threaten to buckle underneath him. It's then I notice, through the lights, a big dark patch appear at his crotch in his jeans, and he whimpers in embarrassment. He's gone and royally peed himself. What the hell? Since when do I have that effect on people?
"Fuck, it's him," he whispers unevenly, then starts calling at the top of his lungs for Denise. She turns to look at me, and then her demeanour changes rapidly, from crazy-ass cow, to bat-shit scared. And then, the pair of them bolt towards their car, like their lives depend on it. It's empowering; knowing I can scare people like that.
"That's right!" I call after them in satisfaction, when their car screeches to life and they speed off around the bend and out of sight, blowing dirt. "You should be afraid of a girl like me! I'm so scary and crazy!"
Everything is a peaceful quiet for about five seconds, while I stand around, feeling like the most powerful girl in the world. But then, someone snickers from behind me, and I stiffen involuntarily at the sound. It's a smug laugh, a bit like a yeah, I got you good laugh. I never knew there was someone standing behind me. It was the very last thing I was expecting.
"It's good to know I haven't lost my fucking touch," someone says quietly from behind me. Their voice is just above a whisper. "Dumb hillbilly mother-fucks." I think I about recognized that voice the instance he spoke; After all, who else has such a potty-mouth?
The relief hit me almost instantly.
"Eric, is that you?" I whisper breathlessly. I turn around to look at him, hoping with every inch of my fibre that it was him. Astonishingly, there isn't anyone even there. No one is even standing around behind me, not even Eric. What? I could stand around aimlessly all night, but then, working very hard to get my head straight, it occurred to me belatedly that there was a dark-haired vampire in the bushes somewhere, probably even hurt, after Mack and Denise got to him so cruelly.
Maybe it wasn't Eric just then? Maybe it had all just been some strange figment of my imagination? If so, then I was as crazy as Mack no doubt deemed I was... Somebody better send me to a lunatic asylum stat.
I start on my search for the missing vampire blindly. I creep in through the bushes, listening carefully. The round moon tonight gives the only source of light and, even then, it isn't enough for me to see. All I see is creepy shapes of branches, and looming shadows jumping around. I really wish I thought of bringing a flash-light with me. But then, I catch glimpse of the whiteness of the vampire's shirt in the bleak, black background, and find him sitting by a tree, making funny noises. I can hear something burning away, and the vampire trying to hold in some agonized moans. I drop on my knees beside him, clutching onto the trunk of the tree behind him. He shifts quickly onto his side, almost as if he is just dying to put some distance between us. Smoke wafts around my face and, by accident, I breathe some of it in. Something is definitely burning near us, and I'm guessing it's the vamp.
"Silver," he says, after a moment, sounding real pained and weak. "On my ankles."
He doesn't need to expand anymore on it for me to figure it out just what he wanted from me; I feel out his legs and the bottom of his trousers, and delve my hands in underneath, my fingertips instantly meeting cold, hairy skin and something metallic. Using my fingernails, I manage to get a decent hold on the long thread of silver, and I work my fingers to the bone in pulling it off. It isn't without difficultly; The silver sticks to him like a second skin, almost.
He swears when I manage to yank it off, with savagery. Vampires and swearing...
"Oh, that looks like it hurts real bad," I mutter sadly, evaluating him. The sores look real deep, engrained into his white flesh.
"Well, yes. It does," the vampire remarks stiffly.
"Here, I can probably get your hands free," I offer, crouching over him.
"No," he snaps, pushing himself away from me with the soles of his shoes. He backs right up into a tree, huffing and groaning. "I am entirely capable of doing that myself, and besides, you are Eric's human. If he found out you were assisting a very hungry vampire, then I..." He doesn't go on with his sentence, which is unfortunate, because I'm sort of hanging on to hear what he was going to say. I caught him shiver at whatever it was Eric might have possibly done to him, though.
So, apparently vampires were just as afraid of Eric Northman; That fear wasn't only displayed by human's. But what's the worst Eric would possibly do to a vampire like him- raise his voice and yell? Big deal. Been there, seen all that. Almost brought the T-shirt.
This vampire is so stubborn that when I reach out to attempt to remove the silver wrapping around his wrists, he moves his arms up to cradle them to his chest. Well, at least he let me remove the silver binding his ankles together. Curiously, I pull up his pant legs around his ankles, checking the spot again. His breathing gets even louder at that, like he feels I'm invading his body or something ridiculous. I almost gasp. Sure enough, his skin is magically healed; By looking at them, you wouldn't have ever assumed he was a vampire frying with silver at the ankles minutes ago. Then again, his legs are so albino white and hairy, it's a bit hard to see his skin properly.
"So, silver is a weakness to you vampire's, huh?" I ask, greatly intrigued for some reason. Eric never told me that.
"Yes." The vampire doesn't look too thrilled having to reveal that.
"So, just say I wore a necklace that's sterling silver, would it ward a vampire away from sucking my neck?"
His eyes widen to the point his whites overpower his pupils. "Yes."
"Great." I slap my knee with a hand loudly, bursting with silent joy. At least, I know how to keep Eric from my neck now, though... it hardly seems blood that he wants. He wants my body, I'm guessing. "I'll have to remember to wear my necklace when he comes over tomorrow evening..." I say, mostly to myself. Pity the vampire assumed otherwise.
"Eric is old. One sip is more than enough for him."
"One sip is a sip too much." I find myself angry for some reason. "He may want to have sex with me, but my blood is one thing that he is not getting anytime soon."
"Well, you can have my blood?" he goes on unexpectedly, after a moment. He sure sounded as if he was hoping I would. "The blood that they were going to collect? Our blood is meant to heighten your libido, and your-"
"- That is disgusting, Mister," I tell him, wildly insulted. "I wouldn't ever touch a vampire's blood. And the state of my libido is just fine, thank you."
"Then may I have some of yours?"
"No, you can't!"
"You smell different," he says, in a very hungry way. "What are you?" Now he is starting to sound like Eric, going on about that 'You're not as human as you smell' stuff, and all that jazz.
"I'm Sookie Stackhouse, and I'm betting you already know I'm a waitress, considering I served you tonight."
"Oh, yes." A deep, and thoughtful pause. "And you are Eric's."
"Yes, I am Eric's," I snap, getting to my feet. "Eric wants to get inside my panties, so... suddenly, that means I'm his. Sure, whatever."
"How about some of your blood, so that I can heal faster?"
"I said no!"
"Oh." The vampire sounds distinctively upset. "Well, it was worth a try." He must want a taste of my blood real badly then. All the more reason to get the hell away from him, before he tried his luck and got it by force.
"What's your name?" I ask, realizing I still don't know it.
"Bill," he says.
"Bill?" I laugh out loudly incredulously. "What's with all the normal names? Not once have I met a vampire called Lestat, or Dracula! Eric! Bill! What's with the normal human names?"
"We are not much different than you," he says quickly. "And I live next door to you. I am William Compton." Oh, well crap. I never knew this was the very same vampire neighbour we apparently had next door. I feel my heart twist in uneasiness. This was the very same vampire Eric had so kindly flipped the bird at, too.
I feel a sudden urge to apologize, for some reason. "I'm real sorry for that night Eric came over and stuck his middle finger up at you," I tell him honestly. "He's... strange like that."
The vampire, Bill, huffs out a shaky laugh. "What you did not see, was that I was giving it to him, just as hard." Oh. No wonder then.
"Well, I've got to be getting back into work," I tell him, a bit sadly. "You sure you'll be alright with that silver?"
"I'll be just fine. Thank you."
"Alright. See ya." I turn to leave, dusting off my shorts. He calls out to me, and I turn to look into the general direction of where his voice came from in the dark.
"May I call on you sometime?"
"Call on me?" I whisper, confused. "By phone, you mean?"
"No, by..." And then he stops abruptly, probably realizing how fruitless explaining would be. "Never mind."
I give him a wave, which no doubt, he could see.
All in all, I learned a few things tonight. One, that maybe I was crazy. Two, that vampire's didn't like silver. And three, that just maybe my vampire next door neighbor wasn't as bad as Eric thought. I just couldn't understand why Eric expressed so much hatred towards him; He seemed just fine, by my standards.
I know you probably won't like Bill, and don't worry. It'll go down differently. Hope you won't hate me for introducing him into the story? Just a warning in advance, as I feel it's necessary while writing chapter eleven (I'm halfway through it now), there will contain a scene of violence mainly directed at Bill, by both Sookie and Eric. So, if you like him, I'm sorry!