A/N: You guys are too cute. FF and AOL are the top two most visited sites on my web browser because of you. Keep on keepin' on. *bear hugs readers*
And a gracious gracias to Chiisai-kitty for being such a fast beta and listening to me yap about how much I love the snow (right now it's February school vacation week; it snowed six inches yesterday and I've been sledding ever since!).
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"Good evening Eric, Sookie," Pam calmly greeted.
"Good evening, Pam," Eric replied, evidently not thinking that pastel Pam isn't at all unusual. Lucky him.
I wasn't so trusting. "Pam. What's wrong?"
She looked surprised for a second before she wiped her face clean and raised an eyebrow. "Nothing that I am aware of. Why?"
"It's just," I gestured to her clothes, "you look … different."
Pam glanced down and then stared at me before her mouth morphed into a glossy pink "O." She smirked, "You don't like Vera Wang?"
"Who?" Was that another witch?
"Sookie, this is what I wear when I'm not in Fangtasia. I'm in my street clothes. You've only seen me in my vampire clothes; we've found that our profits are larger if we feed into the public's perception and secret fantasies about vampires, hence the black and the latex and the leather. But Fangtasia is closed tonight for the supe meeting."
Huh. That was surprisingly logical. After all, I didn't wear my Merlotte's uniform when I wasn't working, and I always made it a point not to wear white shirts and black pants on my days off.
"Oh. Now, how did you describe Bobby Burnham to Eric?" I asked, figuring that could function as some sort of way to see if Pam wasn't bewitched.
"Bobby Burnham is Eric's bitch," she answered, staring at me with due cause. Okay, it was just plain old Pam, although better dressed. But something told me not to say that to her face.
I smiled. "Come on in."
Eric opened the door further and stepped aside to let her pass. Pam nodded and strolled over to sit in the same spot she sat in last time. Perhaps she enjoyed delivering life-altering news while seated comfortably. Eric and I sat on the couch, with me curled up next to Eric with my head resting on his chest and his arm around my shoulder. Pam raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything.
"What's up?" I asked after we were all settled.
"What's up? How cute. Another quaint human saying. I'll add it to the list. What's up is that Eric mentioned that he did not like how you were walking into this blindly, and he said I needed to inform you of what will happen tonight. So here I am."
I looked up at Eric, touched by his thoughtfulness. "You didn't have to do that, Eric."
"Yes I did. What Pam said is true. You are doing everything for me knowing the consequences, so you should know why you are doing this," he replied, drawing me closer to him in a kind of half-hug.
"How was your day with the shifter?" Pam asked conversationally. I sighed and told her everything that happened, not liking how Eric had stiffened slightly at having to hear, for the second time tonight, about my going out to lunch and seeing a movie with Sam.
Pam looked pleased. "Very well. And the shifter will be at Fangtasia tonight?"
"Yes. And who will be joining him?" I asked, wanting to get right to business.
She laughed softly, thoroughly amused at my boldness. "The Shreveport Were pack will be there. I left a message with the packmaster late last night, and he just returned the call to report that a Were was found murdered in her bridal shop today, with the scent of the witches on the scene. Fortunately, Colonel Flood, the packmaster, has pledged to help us fight the witches."
I breathed a sigh of relief. Having witches after me was bad enough; at least I didn't have to worry about werewolves. Then I snorted at the thought. My life was so topsy-turvy right now.
I found Pam and Eric staring intently at me. Apparently vampires are not equipped with a vampire ability to know how to react when a human snorts for no reason at all. "I'm fine. Continue," I said, waving my hand.
"Colonel Flood is the leader of the pack; he is very respected, and even Eric once said he was not bad for a Were," Pam explained. I looked at Eric, who shrugged his shoulders.
"Do the Weres have rankings, like the army? Or secret Were code names? Is that why he's called Colonel Flood?" I asked, and immediately regretted it once Pam burst out laughing. I deflated into Eric's chest—it sounded like a reasonable question in my head!
"Pam. Answer the question," Eric scolded after he took one look at me trying to blend in with his blue jeans and white sweatshirt.
Chastened, Pam said, "No, his official title is the packmaster, and I neither know nor care to find out whether there is a ranking system within the pack. Colonel Flood is a retired Air Force colonel. He is the oldest and toughest Were, despite his age, and I trust him as much as I can trust a two-natured."
I nodded. Pam continued talking about the various Weres in the pack that she knew of, what Were habits were like, and other important information she thought I should know. It was really informative, once I pushed aside her biting commentary (sample quote: "Weres are like those people who walk really slowly and talk loudly on the phone but don't realize everyone hates them. Except Weres smell.").
She concluded her Were 101 lesson by adding, "Tonight we will strategize on how to recruit local Wiccans and other shifters to our cause. I have already rounded up some witches, and they are at Fangtasia. I thought maybe you could come over early and read their minds to see what they know about the Shreveport witches."
"Why me? Can't you just glamor them?" I blurted out. Was this some kind of test for me? To see if I was really telling the truth?
Pam looked at me sharply. "Yes, I could glamor them. However, I want to gauge your usefulness and see if you can read the witches."
"Sookie has already proved her usefulness on many occasions. It does not need to be questioned," Eric murmured dangerously.
"Of course, Eric," Pam conceded, nodding at him. "Still, the Weres are a tentative alliance at best. They are weary of our vampire abilities, glamoring included. Plus, I believe that if we have Sookie there, as a telepath, it would reflect that we have more supporters of our cause, supporters that do not have fangs."
"Very well," Eric replied, "Sookie, are you agreeable to this?"
I nodded my head against Eric's chest. He smiled down at me. Pam looked away.
"The faster we get to Fangtasia, the more time Sookie will have to read the witches before the meeting. Are you ready to leave now?" Pam asked after she was finished counting the flowers on the rug.
"Um, I just have to change but then we can go," I answered, reluctantly removing myself from Eric's embrace. Pam nodded, and I left her there with Eric in the living room.
I stood in front of my closet for the second time tonight. Geeze, if a vampire slept in my closet, a horny witch stopped by the local bar, and a werewolf owned a bridal store, you'd think there'd be a fairy godmother personal stylist to help me pick out clothes for this evening.
"I like the cranberry sweater."
I jumped and saw Eric sitting nonchalantly on the edge of the bed, looking very amused at my silly human reaction. Placing a hand over my heart, I glared at him, not trusting myself to speak just yet.
"Sorry. I don't like being left alone with Pam. I thought I'd come check up on you," he said in an apologetic tone.
"Why?"
He looked startled and replied, "I don't know, I'd rather be with you."
I blushed and walked over to him. "I appreciate that, Eric. But, uh, I was asking why you didn't like being left alone with Pam. She's your child, after all."
"She's always staring at me, tilting her head and asking a lot of questions. I don't like feeling incompetent."
"That makes you and me both. I have no idea what to expect tonight. Well, I guess you don't either. "
He nodded and I sat down next to him, leaning into his embrace. His arms encircled me and he kissed me on the forehead. "As much as I regret saying this, Pam wants us to leave as soon as possible."
I nodded into his chest but didn't move to get up. After some time, he gently released me and strolled over to the closet and I followed him. I grabbed the sweater and a pair of dark wash jeans. I started to move towards the door but then recognized the futility in that action. Surely Eric and I were close enough that I could just change in the same room as him? I peeked over at Eric, who was staring intently at the various knickknacks on my dresser. I turned to face the wall and quickly changed, turning to see Eric silently appraising me. I blushed at being caught. He didn't seem to mind, if the hungry expression on his face was any indication.
Without saying a word he took slow, deliberate steps over and laid a searing kiss on me. His fingers loosened my hair from my low ponytail and he lost his hands in my curls. I responded eagerly, feeling much bolder knowing that this was because of what Eric had seen while I was changing, the first time I had taken my clothes off in front of a man. His look and reaction made me feel beautiful and wanted, and I wasn't used to feeling this way.
He started kissing my neck, pausing with his mouth on my skin every so often. "You. Are. Gorgeous." He made his way back to my lips and hovered, my quivering lips barely touching his. "Simply gorgeous." I smiled, and he took that opportunity to reclaim my mouth.
"What's taking so long?" Pam shouted from downstairs, and I pulled back from Eric. Could she smell my arousal or hear us? I didn't even want to think about it. Eric watched my face rapidly change colors, from white to pink to tomato, and he thoughtfully patted my shoulder and told me not to care about what Pam thought. Yeah, easy for him to say. After all, it's my arousal that she can smell and my quickened breathing that she can hear, not his.
"Sorry about that," I mumbled to Pam when we finally came downstairs, too embarrassed to look her in the eye.
"Are we ready to go?" Pam replied, gracefully standing up.
I nodded and she walked to the front door. Eric and I exchanged a glance and followed her. She dug something out of her purse and the light blue Honda minivan in the driveway chirps and lights up. Geeze, don't tell me Martha Stewart's waiting in the front seat with her homemade peanut butter-blood cookies and artificial blood smoothies.
"I'll escort you to Fangtasia," Pam called out over her shoulder, walking over to the driver's door. Eric looked at me.
I hesitantly asked, "Um, Pam, as much as I appreciate that, don't you think it'd be easier if I followed you and drive over with Eric?" Eric and I barely got to spend time together because of our very different sleeping schedules. I wanted every minute I could with him, especially after last night, even if it was just while driving in my car, and I was glad he seemed to feel the same way.
Pam stumbled, actually stumbled, before turning to look at us inquisitively. After some hideously long seconds passed, she barked, "Fine. Follow me."
Although Eric looked glad to be riding with me, his smile lessened slightly once he crammed himself in my tiny car.
"You have a crappy car," he said, maneuvering his seat to go back as far as it could—which, admittedly, was not very far.
"Yeah, well, you didn't seem to mind the last time you were in it," I replied. "Pam didn't seem too crazy about my idea, huh?"
"No, she did not."
"But why do you think that is? I mean, she seems to like me, and she worships you, so what gives?"
"Perhaps she heard what I said upstairs in your room, about me preferring her company to hers. You asking if you could drive alone with me would have cemented that."
"Oh. Poor Pam." I didn't like knowing I hurt her feelings, even if it was unknowingly. It must be hard to hear that her master would rather be with this human he'd only known for four days than with his child he'd been with for centuries.
Eric didn't say anything else on the matter, choosing instead to calmly ask if I would like to have food and go see a movie with him sometime. I swerved; thankfully there weren't any cars coming in the other direction.
"WHAT???"
"Pam said you went on a date with the shifter today. I just thought you might like to go on a date with me," Eric said in a curiously small voice.
"A date? With Sam? Me?" I cried out incredulously. Okay, now Pam's obsession with Dear Abby was just all sorts of bad. Who is she to determine if Sam and I went on a date, which we totally did not! We were just two friends of different genders spending the afternoon together—because she told me to! How dare she plant the wrong idea in Eric's empty mind! Wait, was that why Eric came upstairs to check up on me?
"Yes, a date. Pam says it's when two humans who are romantically interested in each other eat food at a restaurant and then go see a moving picture in a movie theater. Did Sam say you look pretty and kiss you goodnight on the front porch? I didn't smell him in our house, only on the driveway."
Our house. Eric had said "our house." Without even meaning to. My heart melted into a big pile of Eric-scented goo.
I reached over to hold his hand; I usually was a very cautious and careful driver, but I was willing to steer with one hand on the wheel if it allowed me to hold Eric's hand. He looked so wounded and vulnerable right now, and I wanted to comfort him, or comfort him as much as I could while still driving and keeping up with Pam's undercover daredevil driving in a soccer mom car. He had no reason to feel like he did now, and he needed to know that.
"I didn't go on a date with Sam, and I don't want to. I just needed something to do to pass the time until sunset, until I could be with you," I said truthfully. "And no, Sam did not kiss me. I don't want him to kiss me. The only person I want kissing me is you."
Eric squeezed my hand and looked more relaxed. "That makes me happy. You are the only person I want to kiss."
'And hopefully do other things with,' I thought, but I didn't say anything.
"And of course I want do more with you too, but that can wait," Eric grinned. I shook my head and smiled. At least he was honest with me.
"Well, you won't have to wait too long. That is, of course, if I manage to survive tonight," I joked, even though I was feeling much less confidant than I let on. I'd have to meet vampires and werewolves and shifters and witches—oh my! See, I'm past the "lions and tigers and bears" stage. Dorothy has nothing on me.
"Why are you scared?"
"I'm not really scared, I'm just nervous." And let me tell you, I wasn't anxious just because I wasn't sure about what kinds of small talk I could make with the Weres. Would it be considered bad form if I commented on how pretty the moon looked tonight?
"Sookie, you stopped to pick up a strange amnesiac vampire on the side of the road in the middle of the night and then took him home with you, all before meeting with his very angry and confused vampire peers and realizing that he was cursed by an evil witch. I think you will be okay."
Well, when Eric put it like that, I sounded like Super Sookie. I wished I could meet that girl. She seemed awesome.
"Plus, I promise I won't leave your side tonight. I will protect you at all times. You will be safe with me," he added, a spark of determination set in his eyes.
After Eric figured out how to turn the radio on without any help, something he seemed very proud of, he eagerly scanned the stations. He acted like such a kid because he'd only listen to a station for about five seconds before changing it. Eric seemed to like heavy metal songs, so we kept it on that channel for the rest of the drive. I wondered if that was the kind of music he enjoyed listening to before he was cursed, and I could tell he was pondering the same thing.
Interestingly enough, Fangtasia was located in a suburban shopping area of Shreveport, close to a Sam's and a Toys 'R Us. To be honest, I was expecting it to be on a cliff overlooking the sea or in the middle of a forest, but nope, the vampire bar was next to a toy store. Go figure.
At least the exterior of the bar lived up to expectations; the name of the place was spelled out in jazzy red lettering on a sign overlooking the bright red door, and the façade was painted a steel gray. There weren't that many cars in the parking lot than Pam sped into, but once I parked and started walking towards the door I could see that there was a "Sorry, We're Dead" sign hanging in the window. Nice.
"Do you always drive that slow or were you just occupied with bigger things tonight?" Pam asked as she unlocked the door.
"Nope, I was just showing off for you," I retorted. I could have sworn I saw a ghost of a smile in her eyes before she nodded and walked inside.
Eric and I followed, and he bumped into my back once I stopped to gape at the room. It looked like the interior designer threw up red, black, and gray paint, and I mean that in the nicest way possible. The walls were lined with framed pictures of every movie vampire who had ever shown fangs on the screen—from Nosferatu to Tom Cruise's Lestat—and pictures of the covers of famous vampire books. The only wall space that wasn't covered with pictures was occupied by red and white signs that were printed with messages like "Proceed at your own risk" or "No biting on premises."
The lighting was dim, much dimmer than Merlotte's, but that only added to the mysterious allure of the club, I guess. Black leather booths lined the walls, and a handful of black tables and chairs were in the middle of the club. The bar, which was the only bar I've ever seen with a rotating display of bottled blood at the end of it, took up the entire right side of the room; it was stationed next to a merchandise stand selling "Fangtasia" t-shirts, hats, and shot glasses. Apparently Fangtasia was the bar with a bite.
The most interesting aspect of the club was a magnificent and ornate gold throne, an actual throne, which was placed high enough on its own stand that it overlooked the entire room. Pam noticed me gawking, so she smirked and said, "That's Eric's seat."
I turned to Eric, who looked pleased that he was the one who got to occupy that chair. Even by itself, the throne looked powerful and dangerous, and once Eric walked over and sat down he looked so regal I half expected him to dig around and pull out a bejeweled crown out from behind the red velvet seat cushion. Although he looked pompous and arrogant sitting on that throne, there was no denying that he also looked very natural and sexy. He looked like Dawn's Eric, not my Eric who preferred sitting on the floor wrapped up in an old quilt and getting excited when he figured out how to turn on the car radio.
He smiled and beckoned to me. "Come, sit," he said, patting his lap.
I obliged, leaning back against him comfortably; he wrapped his arms around my stomach and shifted a little to accommodate me. In my current position, I still wasn't as tall as he was, but even from my view the room and everything in it looked smaller. So this was what Eric saw normally. Huh.
Chow had entered the room and was now talking to Pam. After a few seconds they both glanced toward us briefly, and then continued their conversation.
I asked Eric what they were talking about. He dipped his head and whispered into my ear, "The local witches are in the next room. Pam wants to bring them out one-by-one and have you read their minds for information. Chow is not as trusting of you as Pam and I are, and he wants to glamor the witches instead."
"I like Pam's way better," I whisper back, not knowing what else I was supposed to say.
"We will have Sookie read the witches individually," Eric said, like he was talking to someone three yards in front of him instead of the hundred yards that separated him from the vampires, but both of them looked up and nodded, Pam a little smugly. She said something to Chow and he disappeared through a bright red double-door.
"Now it is time for you to be extraordinary," Eric whispered, kissing my cheek. Together we walked over to Pam, who gestured towards a table and two chairs. I sat down, but Eric remained standing next to Pam. I was about to say something when Chow reemerged with a woman with skin the color of coffee and steel gray hair pulled back in a severe bun. She looked like she could be a librarian or a school teacher, especially with her glasses and shiny black loafers. She looked like an anti-witch, but maybe that was because she was a good witch? Chow led her over to the other seat and then turned his attention to me, as did everyone else in the room.
"Hi, I'm Sookie Stackhouse," I said politely.
"Lucinda Masterson. Pleased to meet you," she responded in a distantly friendly tone.
"Sookie, listen to Lucinda," Chow ordered. I narrowed my eyes at him.
"What exactly am I listening for?"
"Hallow sought out the local Wiccan coven and its members in Shreveport, and had a special meeting with them. You need to find out where their headquarters are, what they're planning for next, how many witches there are, and anything else you manage to find."
"And then what will you do?" I asked.
Chow seemed surprised. "We will use that information for tonight's meeting."
"What will you do with Lucinda and the other Wiccans?"
"We will turn them over to the Weres for safe-keeping during the day, to make sure they do not attempt to contact Hallow or any of her followers," he said ambiguously. I didn't like that.
"What do you mean, 'turn them over to the Weres?' They're not going to torture or kill these people, are they?"
Chow didn't answer, but Pam did. "No, that would not be wise. We want these witches on our side. For right now I will guarantee their safety and well-being, but I shall have to bring it up with the packmaster. We will worry about that later, though. You have a lot of required reading to catch up on."
I nodded. Good enough for me. I turned my attentions to Lucinda, who was a soft broadcaster. I could only pick up on small bits and phrases—"knew this was bad … What will she … I hope that …."
I reached across the table and placed my hand on top of hers. That was better. "Such a sweet nice thing, but why do the vampires actually listen to her? What can she do?"
"Lucinda, what do you know about Hallow?"
"Hallow's the leader of a very strong witch coven, the biggest and most powerful I have ever heard of. She's ruthless, that one. Her brother too. They drink vampire blood, which makes them dangerous. There are some Were-witches as well. That group, they're not like us," she answered, looking at my hand the whole time. She was telling the truth while wondering what I was doing and why I needed to ask her these questions.
"How are they different from you and the others?" I asked. I didn't know if I was supposed to engage in a conversation or wait for instructions from Chow, but I decided that since I was in charge of this I'd do what I wanted to do.
"We're more like Wiccans, and they're more like witches. They fit into the evil Halloween witch stereotype, and we don't."
"Who's 'we?' And what's the difference between Wiccans and witches?"
Lucinda replied, "'We' is the other witches in my coven. I'm assuming you'll meet with them later. If you're a witch, you practice magic rituals, drawing from a power most people never tap into. Being a witch isn't supposed to be wicked, but these witches are. As for the Wiccans, you follow a religion, mostly pagan ones. I myself follow the ways of the Mother. You can be both a Wiccan and a witch, or just one. We see ourselves as being mostly Wiccan, even though we occasionally practice a little witchcraft."
I could see that there were about six other people in her coven, four females and two males. One of them was Holly. Holly from Merlotte's. Holly who missed a day of work and I filled in for her.
"Holly's a witch?" I gasped. Lucinda looked surprised, as did the vampires.
"Yes. She's our newest member of the coven, and is very promising. I must say, she did not take well to meeting Hallow."
"Sookie, who is Holly?" Eric questioned softly. I turned to look at his worried gaze. I guess me recognizing a witch, even though she was a good witch (like Glinda, I thought), would be pretty distressful.
"Holly works with me at Merlotte's," I explained, and Eric's nostrils flared. "Don't worry, she's a good witch. Apparently she's in the back room where the rest of the other witches are."
Chow nodded distractedly, his eyes never leaving Lucinda. I followed his gaze to find her staring at me, like one would study a particularly interesting bug.
Once she saw she had my attention, she said, "You're the psychic, aren't you? Holly said she worked with a girl who everyone thought was crazy. And you are, in your own way, aren't you? You're a telepath, that's what you are."
"Yes, I am. So I'll know if you're telling the truth," I bristled. I knew she didn't mean anything by it, but I didn't like being called crazy, especially by people who barely knew me.
She looked taken aback, as did the vampires. I continued, "So if you're not like Hallow, how do you know so much about her?"
Lucinda answered, "Hallow is quite infamous in the witchcraft community. But I know most about her because she sent out a call for all local witches, for a summit, and I had to attend. She tried to impose her will on us, especially me because I am the coven leader. But I was not impressed with her commitment and power and drug use, and the rest of the witches here weren't either. Those that were, however, are staying with her."
I could see where Hallow was staying and holding the meetings; it was in an old warehouse somewhere past the exit for the Pierre Bossier Mall. I proudly relayed this highly useful information to the vampires; Chow nodded coolly, Pam smiled, and Eric winked. Lucinda then answered how many witches there were (about twelve originally, but she didn't know how many local witches had switched over) and whether there were any prisoners (not that she knew of) and then Chow led her back to wherever she had come from.
Eric was beaming at me, and I soaked it all up. This was the first time I had purposefully demonstrated my telepathy in front of an audience, and Eric's reaction was very helpful and encouraging. I almost felt stronger because of his gaze.
The rest of the witches mostly said, and thought, the same as Lucinda, and then it was time for Holly. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped as soon as she saw me talking animatedly with Eric and Pam.
"Sookie? What are you doing here?" Holly shrieked. Apparently none of the other witches had told her what was happening or who they were meeting with.
"I'm helping the good guys," I answered, reflecting on the irony; since when are vampires considered the good guys? When fighting evil witches, I guess.
"What do they have on you? Those witches? They threatened me about my boyfriend, said they'd curse him and make him hate me or start hittin me. That's the only reason why I went to their meeting, I swear!" Holly cried hysterically.
She was telling the truth. Holly had been working in Merlotte's the day that Hallow, or Marnie, had come in, and somehow Hollow could tell Holly was a witch and she had cornered her in the employee room, her smile widening as she casually listed all of the different forms of torture and spells her special powers had armed her with, tools she could use to make Holly's life miserable. Holly hadn't been the only witch blackmailed into helping Hollow.
I hugged Holly, who started crying on my shoulder. She was really shook up about this; she hadn't left her house in days (which was why she called in sick) until the pizza delivery man, Chow, rang her doorbell and then the next thing she knew she was in Fangtasia and seeing me at the table. Huh, I'd have to talk to Chow about the excess glamoring, or what I thought was glamoring; her memory had deliberate holes in it, like Swiss cheese.
Once she calmed down I talked to her some more, and then Chow accompanied her to the back room.
As soon as she was out the door, Eric offered his hand to help me out of the chair and hugged me. "You were fantastic," he whispered in my hair. "I am very proud of you."
"Yes, Sookie, you did not disappoint," Pam called out as she walked behind the bar. "Care for a drink?"
"Gin and tonic, please," I answered, walking over to the bar. Pam the bartender? This I had to see.
Pam opened up a small handbook, which she briefly studied before gathering the materials needed to make a gin and tonic. She handed me a glass, and I sipped; it tasted like a regular gin and tonic, but I was grateful for it. I thanked Pam and asked if she was the bartender, to which she laughed and said that Chow was. I thought Pam seemed more of a people person that grumpy old Chow, but maybe that was just me.
As I savored my drink, Pam said we had a half hour before the supes arrived and we were free to look around. Before she went to find Chow, she told Eric where to find his office. I exchanged a look with him, and he took my hand as he followed her directions.
We giddily scampered down a long corridor before entering his office, a corridor that was similar to the one that led to Sam's office and the back rooms at Merlotte's; even so, Fangtasia's in a whole other stratosphere than Sam's backwoods bar.
Eric stopped in front of the door that Pam said led to his office; it looked like a regular wooden door to me, not the office headquarters of a businessman and authoritative figure such as Eric. He didn't seem to mind, as he waggled his eyebrows at me and opened the door all the way revealing … an office. Not a secret dungeon lair. Not a little bat cave. Just an office—and a cluttered office at that.
Unlike the rest of Fangtasia, the walls in Eric's office were white. I could see a few landscape paintings, each one depicting a different daytime scene: snowy woods, the sun setting over a field, the beach. It looked like there are a bunch of different-sized windows on the wall, windows showing different parts of the outside world, or the outside world as painted by artists over the centuries. I wonder if all vampires missed seeing the sun like Eric apparently did.
Besides the wall hangings, the most impressive aspect of the room was the grand wooden desk and the large leather desk chair behind it. I guessed that Eric always sat in that desk during important meetings. If he looked half as intimidating then as he did now, sitting in that chair, then I could see why he was such a successful businessman. He ruined that power image when he leaned back and stretched his legs to rest on the desk, taking care not to hit the telephone or the lamp or the stacks of papers or the Viking ship in a bottle or the other desk doodads on the mahogany table.
I sat down across from him, timidly perching on one of the two wooden chairs in front of the desk. Eric didn't notice; he was too busy drinking in the rest of the office, which was understandable. From the looks of things, Eric spent a lot of time back here; there were black filing cabinets and book shelves holding books, notepads, binders, and other office supplies. But I stopped paying attention to that once Eric jumped out of his seat and zoomed over to the left side of the room.
I watched him reach out and grab a small white iPod—it had to be his iPod. Although I could only see part of his profile, his smile was large enough for me to see in my position. He pocketed the gadget and meticulously looked over everything else in the room, bringing his face closer to the portraits and opening all of the desk drawers to dig around.
I felt like an intruder. This was Eric's opportunity to learn about his past self, a highly personal and revealing moment, and I didn't want to force myself in the situation. While he was flipping through a notebook, I quietly tiptoed out of the room and softly shut the door. This was Eric's time, not mine.
I wandered back into the deserted bar area of Fangtasia and sat down at the bar, which, after close inspection, was stocked with lots of fancy and expensive alcohol that Sam never carried. Also, Sam didn't carry blood, so I could add that to the long list of differences between Merlotte's and Fangtasia. I finished my gin and tonic and, for lack of anything else to do, went behind the counter and fixed myself another one.
After some time, Eric walked back in with Pam, Chow, and a few other vampires; Gerald, Thalia, and a tall man whose name escaped me. They all chatted together in low, muted voices until Eric broke away and came over to sit next to me, temporarily halting their conversation. Once they stared at us for an awkward amount of time, they resumed talking.
"How are you handling everything?" Eric asked, reaching over and taking my hand.
"Ask me again at the end of all of this," I joked feebly. Eric scowled.
"You do not need to worry, Sookie."
"I know, but that's not stopping me from worrying. What are they talking about?" I asked, pointing my chin in the direction of the vampires.
"Vampire stuff," he replied. I snorted. I thought I was the only one who referred to vampire stuff as, well, vampire stuff.
He glanced at my raised eyebrow and explained, "They are strategizing. I do not care to be involved in that when you're all by yourself and I can sit and talk to you instead."
Wow. Based on what I've seen and heard about Eric and his work, that seemed like a complete contrast to the warrior businessman. But I quickly dismissed that thought.
Eric complimented me on my sweater, and I then realized he had changed into a black tank top, black pants, and black leather flip flops. And with arms like that, I don't know how the heck I didn't notice his wardrobe change earlier. He had pulled his hair back with a leather band, showing off his neck; I never knew how sexy a neck could be until I saw Eric's neck. Shoot, was this how vampires always felt? Because I wouldn't mind biting Eric's neck right now … or licking it … or kissing it. Wait, stupid vampire senses! Cool your jets. I said Eric looked very handsome, and he grinned while telling me that he found the spare change of clothes in the closet of his office and he wanted to try them on.
I was distracted by Eric's new look by the large group of people that just walked through the front door; I could tell right away they were vampires. Most of them joined the vampire huddle, but one, a man who looked like an American Indian with long coal black hair twisted in a braid and a handful of tribal-looking tattoos on his arms, bypassed them and came straight towards me and Eric. He bowed solemnly.
"Eric, it is I, Long Shadow. I am the manager of your other businesses located near the bottom of Area Five. We have known each other for centuries. I am sorry to hear of your present condition, but I am resolved to help fix it," he said majestically as he straightened.
I looked over at Pam, who was monitoring us. She nodded in Long Shadow's direction—to confirm he was telling the truth, I guess. Eric followed my gaze and then turned back to Long Shadow and nodded.
"Very well. Thank you for coming tonight, Long Shadow."
"My pleasure," he replied, leering at me and showing fang. Eric tensed.
Pam made her way over. "Long Shadow, nice to see you again. Come, we have much to discuss."
After staring at me for a few more seconds, Long Shadow obliged and followed Pam through the doors leading to the back of the building. I wondered if they were going to Eric's office, but that wasn't any of my business. And Eric didn't seem to notice or care, as he resumed talking with me and trying to make me feel less anxious. He was proving to be very adept at that, as I was engrossed in his descriptions of the various things he had stored in his desk drawers—evidently he was very good at crossword puzzles, as there was an entire drawer filled with dozens of completely filled puzzle books. He seemed as baffled by the revelation as I was.
It wasn't until we were giggling about the vampire porn magazine Eric had found in one of the back rooms (apparently necks were the target focus, not the boobs or butt, and although I didn't know why he felt the need to tell me this I appreciated his openness) that we noticed that the room had gone silent as the other vampires stopped talking to gaze at the new batch of people. Pam appeared behind the bar and placed a hand on Eric's shoulder. He stopped mid-sentence and turned to look at her, then swiveled when she nodded in the direction of the door.
I turned and looked too. An older, distinguished man (Colonel Flood?) with a white buzz cut was standing in front of a large group of different men and women of all ages and races; they didn't look like Weres—they weren't excessively hairy and they didn't have long fingernails or anything else like that. They looked like regular people. Heck, at this point I wouldn't be surprised if Pam told me Jason turned into a unicorn every Sunday morning.
The man stared at the group of vampires like he was looking for someone, and I think he found that person once his gaze landed on Eric, because his eyes widened slightly, as did the eyes of every person standing behind him. All the vampires turned to see what the colonel was staring at, and the only way to accurately describe the silence that blanketed the room is that it was deadly.
Pam noticed and confidently strode over to the Weres. "Colonel Flood, thank you for coming," she said, playing the part of the gracious hostess.
The packmaster recovered and replied, "Yes, Pam. Thank you for having us."
They did some more social dosey-doing before Pam motioned for the Weres to sit down and ordered Chow and Long Shadow start fixing drinks for everyone. Eric and I received a lot of strange looks, some better disguised than others. I had to throw my shields up because although I couldn't read any comprehensive thoughts, I still received the general gist of what everyone was thinking: what the fuck happened to Eric Northman and who was the blonde bimbo with huge boobs?
Colonel Flood walked over to where Eric and I were sitting at the bar; no one took the stools closest to us, even though people were standing awkwardly against the walls.
The packmaster extended his hand toward me and introduced himself, saying, "Miss Stackhouse. I have heard much about you, and you certainly live up to expectations, as would anyone who manages to keep up with Northman for over four days."
I laughed appreciatively, as did he, and replied, "Thank you, sir. Please, call me Sookie."
He then turned to Eric. "Northman, any doubt that I had about your amnesia is gone. I've only met with you a handful of times, but I can tell. You haven't sneered once, and I've never seen you this happy."
Eric looked bewildered before he recovered and smiled weakly. Honestly, what do you say to that? I wanted to hug him, but I was afraid that would emasculate him in a time when his amnesia already made him a target.
Thankfully, Pam, ever the perfect hostess, intervened and laughed, "Yes, that's our Eric. So, Colonel, what's your drink?"
She led the packmaster away, leaving me and Eric in silence. I feigned interest in a picture of Brad Pitt from Interview with the Vampire (not that that was so hard), but out of the corner of my eye I saw a very stunned-looking Eric shake his head in disbelief and mouth the words, "Never seen you this happy."
I nervously played with the black Fangtasia cocktail napkin printed with fake drops of blood and tried to come up possible conversation starters, something I thought I'd never have to do with Eric. Thankfully, Pam clinked her bottle of TrueBlood with a fork (where'd she find a fork in Fangtasia?) and immediately gathered everyone's attention.
"So everyone knows why we're here. Hallow's coven is provoking the supernatural creatures in Shreveport. She has drawn blood, and even more, from a vampire and a Were. She needs to be stopped."
Some of the younger Weres started howling and cheering, but they were instantly silenced with a single glance from Colonel Flood. He nodded at Pam to continue.
She raised her bottle in acknowledgement and continued, "I know Weres and vampires don't usually mix, but the only way we can defeat Hallow is by working together. I know that, you know that, we all know that, and we all need to do that. Weres, this is your chance to avenge the wrongful murder of Annabelle Yancy. Vampires, this is your chance to avenge the possible murder of Clancy, and this is your chance to avenge Eric's curse. The witches need to be stopped, and we're the only ones that can stop them."
Colonel Flood made his way over so he was standing next to Pam. In a surprisingly loud and clear voice he called, "The leaders of the group are trying to take over not only the vampire's territory, but also ours. But with the vampire-Were alliance, they will not succeed. Not if we can help it."
Now people started cheering and howling, and this time Colonel Flood joined in. Even Pam gave a small yet very dignified "whoo."
After the noise died down Colonel Flood said, "So. Let's get started, shall we?"
Pam nodded. "We already have intelligence on the whereabouts of the witches."
Colonel Flood looked surprised, and he testily murmured, "I was not aware of this, Pam."
In an even tone, Pam replied, "Nor was I, Colonel, until fifteen minutes ago. Sookie Stackhouse read the minds of the local witches who attended Hallow's meeting."
Colonel Flood looked at me, no doubt waiting for an explanation. I hastily recounted everything I had learned from the interviewing sessions.
"Nice work. I'll have my best trackers on the lookout for the exact location. I have to say, Sookie, I am very pleased with you."
All of the Weres looked at me curiously. Obviously the first-name basis and personal compliment from the packmaster had elevated my status from blonde bimbo to respectable woman. I supposed I had earned my keep.
Colonel Flood was smiling kindly in a grandfatherly way, Eric was grinning brilliantly, Pam had arranged her mouth in a non-smirk, and everyone else in the building was gawking at me. I blushed and dipped my head, not used to being the center of attention or having my telepathy be worthy of respect, not ridicule.
I cleared my throat and asked, "So, what happens after we find the witches' headquarters?"
Pam and the colonel exchanged glances. Pam responded, "First off, thank you for not saying 'if we find the witches' headquarters,' Sookie. I like your positive attitude. We will find the witches, and we will destroy them. Once we locate them, then we shall have another meeting to discuss our battle tactics. Because this is war. Supernatural blood has been shed."
"You're just pissed because you didn't get to lick it up," a redheaded Were in a leather jacket and jeans piped up.
No one spoke. Pam was livid, and the colonel actually snarled.
"That is so not true," I blurted. And it wasn't. The vampires had lost more than the Weres, if the woman had bothered to keep tally. They had lost Eric to amnesia and Clancy to his final death, and while I felt awful about the Were's horrible and unnecessary death, nothing cleared the fact that the vampires had lost two and the Weres lost one. Although with the way this woman was behaving, the Weres might end up tying the vampires pretty soon.
"You would side with them, you vamp humping bitch," she snarled, not noticing that almost every person in this room was glaring at her.
Well, I've had worse things said about me, but not to my face and not by people who wanted me to hear them. First time for everything.
Eric leaped out of his seat. And suddenly the woman was sprawled on the ground flat on her back and with Eric on top of her, his fangs extended, before anyone could even be alarmed. Luckily, Pam and Chow were just as fast as Eric, and together they forcefully lifted him off of the shaking Were. She was bleeding a little, but she was yelping (like an annoying little dog) nonstop.
Although only one other Were had rushed over to the redhead's side, I thought the whole room would erupt in battle. Judging by everyone's tense body language I wasn't the only one; even Pam looked a little panicked, but that might have been because she was struggling to contain an enraged Eric.
"ENOUGH!" Colonel Flood roared, and everyone stopped to look at him. With a powerful voice like that, it'd be hard not to. I had no idea what he was going to say. I don't think anyone did.
Colonel Flood cleared his throat and walked over to the Were, fully aware that he was being watched. He stood over the redhead and calmly but forcefully stated, "Amanda, you would do well to be polite to our allies and keep your damn opinions to yourself. Your offense cancels out the blood he spilled."
The one Were who had been helping Amanda straightened and snarled at his packmaster, who simply ordered, "No retaliation, Parnell." Parnell begrudgingly nodded and turned his attention back at Amanda, who suddenly began yelping again now that she had an audience.
Then the colonel carefully made his way over to me. "Sookie, I apologize for the poor manners of the pack. You can be sure that an incident like this will not happen again."
Now I could feel the stares of almost everyone in the room, and I idly wondered how Colonel Flood managed it. I forced myself to nod, blinking back tears without knowing why I was crying. I snuck a peek at Eric, who looked a little calmer, but with great effort; Pam was murmuring in his ear and Chow was gripping his arm.
The front door opened and everyone swiveled to see who it was: a very sheepish Sam. He stopped dead in his tracks once he saw the redheaded Were dabbing at her bloody elbow, Eric being restrained by Pam and Chow, Colonel Flood with his hands on his hips, and me bracing myself against the bar. He mumbled, "Sorry I'm late," and sat down in the closest chair to him. He looked very surprised and tense, and I didn't blame him. He picked an awful time to come in.
Colonel Flood walked over to where he was originally standing and took a long swig of his drink. Everyone relaxed slightly. I could tell Sam was trying to catch my eye but I deliberately watched Eric mutter something to Chow, who released his hold on Eric.
"Sookie, you have to work early tomorrow, yes? We'll contact you if anything else happens in this meeting," Pam called out from across the room.
Sam started to open his mouth and I hurriedly answered, "Yes, of course Pam. It was nice meeting everyone. Take care." I didn't know why she was lying, but I figured Pam was the kind of girl who always had a plan and right now it was better for me to just go with the flow than stop and question her in front of a nosey crowd. As I purposefully strode towards the door, it occurred to me that she probably wanted me to take Eric home to cool off. Which was a pretty smart idea, because Eric's fists were still clenched and his fangs were half extended and his eyes were glowing a fiery blue, so hot and full of passion it hurt to look at them. They were the sun to me.
I grabbed Eric's hand and hustled out of the building, and Pam followed right behind us. I knew Eric could have fought me if he wanted to, but he didn't and I was very grateful.
Pam all but shoved Eric into the passenger seat and barked, "We'll call you later, go now."
I was going to comment on her snippy behavior, but one look at Eric caused me to instead nod and turn the car on. She then zoomed back into Fangtasia, probably to do some major damage control that Dear Abby had never had to deal with, leaving me with one very angry vampire, one very crappy car, and one helluva ride home.
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A/N: I hope you liked this chapter! For some reason I always have more fun writing the vampire action-y parts than the E/S scenes.