Winter Solstice New Year's Resolutions Chapter 10, a sookie stackhouse/southern vampire mysteries fanfic

Title: Winter Solstice – New Year's Resolutions – Chapter 10

Author: Marianne H. Stillie

Categories: Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, POV

Rating: T

Pairing: Eric and Sookie

Sequel To: The Gift; Winter Solstice-The Wedding

Summary: Sometimes a honeymoon can be dangerous.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and places for Southern Vampire Mysteries Sookie Stackhouse Novels are the property of Charlaine Harris, Ace Books, The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment, not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks are intended. Previously unrecognized characters, places and this story are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Archive: Please do not archive anywhere without the author's permission.

Author's Note: The last scene I had originally planned for this final chapter didn't fit. Instead it will become the first scene for the next part of my Eric and Sookie saga "Changing Times".

I want to thank everyone who read this story and the first two. A very special thank you goes out to those of you who took the time to send me a review along with those who thought enough of my work to add my stories and/or my name to your favorites lists. You are the best!

Mar

Winter Solstice – New Year's Resolutions

Chapter 10

The section of bookcase slid behind the false wall in my home office revealing the cache of weapons I had accumulated over the years. After Sookie moved in, I had shown her my armament vault so she would know where to go if she needed something to fight with. She had made all the appropriate comments solemnly, thanked me for my concern then walked out of my office grumbling about someone named Duncan McCloud. When Pam told me who he was and gave me details about the television show, I purchased all six seasons of "The Highlander" from , hoping they would be as amusing as Sookie's "Buffy" DVDs. As my wife would say, they were a hoot, the pyrotechnics and swordplay much more fun than the stories.

Carefully choosing the weapons I felt Alec and I would need to confront the Fellowship hit squad, I included a barbed Australian hardwood stake in my arm sheath, like the one that had saved my life on that Canadian mountain on New Year's Eve. I didn't believe in luck so I never foolishly took my safety for granted. If another rogue vampire assassin showed up, I would be prepared.

From the doorway where he was comfortably leaning against the doorjamb, Alec said, "You are the perfect politician, sheriff, championing peace yet always prepared for war."

"That's why I'm still alive after eleven hundred years." Picking up my newest acquisition, I tossed it to Alec.

Catching the device in his left hand, he examined the workmanship of the mini-crossbow, benign without the hardwood arrow that made it exceptionally lethal to vampires as well as humans. "Nice design. Your idea?"

"Yes. I have a private source that does special work for me."

Alec stood beside my heavily laden desk. "The Arms of Northman," he joked. Picking up the carefully wrapped leather case of arrows, he asked, "May I?"

I nodded. He notched a perfectly carved piece of wood into the crossbow mechanism, hefted it and aimed expertly. Having lived through the Middle Ages when full-sized versions were in common use, we had both become experts.

"Nice balance."

I smiled at my eldest child. "For an ex-priest, you've always been a dangerous fighter."

"I had to be against the Sasanach."

Despite his pacifism, Alec had returned to Ireland numerous times over the centuries, taking up residence in different parts of the country to help his fellow Irish. Under the cover of changing identities including that of a lay brother, he fought against the escalating abuses of the British, stealing food, medicines and, when necessary, weapons. He even arranged several jailbreaks. "What was the highest price the lobsterbacks put on your multiple-identity head?"

Tucking the crossbow and pouch of arrows into the largest pocket of his utility vest, he grinned. "In pounds sterling? A great deal. I lost track once I landed at Grosse Isle, Quebec."

We began arming ourselves from the assortment of bladed weapons on the desk.

"Perfect fit on the combat uniform and camouflage. Another of your multifaceted businesses?"

This time I grinned. "I even remembered your shoe size for those hiking boots to protect your long, skinny feet." I tossed him a pair of specially designed gloves to cover his vampire skin when handling silver nets and chains. Alec raised a questioning eyebrow. "Sigebert taught me a very painful lesson after the Nevada takeover," I explained.

Slipping on the insulated, highly flexible gloves, Alec nodded toward my weapons closet. "I see you still have the katana sword you brought back from your diplomatic mission to Japan in 1637."

The samurai weapon he referred to was prominently displayed on the back wall of my secret compartment, a spotlight shining on the metal of its perfect workmanship. "It's an exquisite reminder that I just barely got away from those samurai vampires with my head after the Shimbara Rebellion."

Restraining his perverse Celtic humor, Alec said, "Gaston knew you were the only EC envoy who could make it back if there was trouble."

"And I thanked him for the honor by beating his ancient ass in a night-long fencing match. He didn't speak to me for a month."

For a brief instant, I gave in to a wave of nostalgia, recalling the last time Alec and I had fought together in the Morea expedition of 1828-29 with the French. Gaston had volunteered us to help in that last phase of the Greek's war for independence from the Ottoman Empire.

Alec must have been following my train of thought and became very serious. "Our patriarch's decision to send us to Greece was personal, not part of his duty as Consul General."

Putting down the long knife I was about to slip into my thigh sheath, I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. "What do you know that I don't?"

"During one of our more contentious debates, Gaston lost control in his diatribe and used a string of classic ancient Greek, perfectly pronounced and grammatically correct. I remembered what I'd learned in seminary so I did some research. In the thirteenth century BC there was a small highly secret cult loosely connected to Delphi. A vampire scholar has speculated that they were of our race."

"And Gaston was one of them."

"He was very probably their leader."

"It would not surprise me. I have always sensed an aura of mystery about him beyond our vampire magic." Closing my eyes, I made a mental return to my first sight of my savior. His perfectly chiseled features, almost black hair and the waves of power I felt rolling off him had petrified me in my weakened state. Only when he held my look with his hypnotic kaleidoscope eyes did my fear subside.

Shaking off the grim past, I returned to the here and now. As Alec and I resumed arming ourselves, I smiled at a lighter memory. "Gaston's manner of celebrating our return was quite raucous and lengthy. Too bad you only enjoyed part of it."

"You and my adopted grandfather had so many women parading in and out of the house, I had to escape."

Smirking, I reminded Alec, "If you had stayed, you would have met Pam sooner."

"Que sera sera," and he blushed as only an Irish vampire could.

The desk was finally empty except for a Beretta semi-automatic pistol and half a dozen clips. Pressing the hidden button for the locking mechanism, the section of bookshelf slid out of the wall and clicked back into place. I picked up the pistol and clips and started for the doorway.

Alec's quizzical expression was explained by his next words, "I know you've never cared for guns, Eric. Too easy and impersonal."

"For Pam, at the house. Just in case. Sookie has her own Benelli shotgun."

Before I could take a step out to the hall, Alec grabbed me around the bicep. His green eyes were deeply troubled. His usually soft voice had an edge to it that reflected the worry I sensed in my child.

"Please be careful, Eric."

"I always am. Besides, I have too much to live for now."

"Sookie?"

"And my son and daughter that my mate is carrying," I confided happily.

Alec's anxiety quickly turned to a radiant joy. "Thanks be to God!" and he hugged me tightly. As we went down the hall to the living room, he added very emotionally, "Pam needs to know your wonderful news, father."

After dropping Pam off at the Bon Temps house, Alec and I headed across the cemetery toward the Compton property on foot. I was relieved that Jason and Stephanie were staying. Now that his sister was with child, her big brother had assumed the role of Stackhouse family protector. If any threat were to surface at the family homestead, human, vampire or both, I felt sorry for the offending creature.

Our silent movement across the winter short grass would fool any non-vampire. The forest pattern camouflage of our clothing gave us full concealment in the darkness. Our black-gloved hands went well with our faces that were slathered in night combat makeup. We made the perfect vampire commando team.

Pressed against the huge oak only twenty yards north of the house, I sniffed the air. "Do you smell that?" The very pleasant odor was making parts of my anatomy react in a very inappropriate manner.

Chuckling, Alec answered, "Fairy scent. The Mounties are here," and he pointed toward the stand of trees that screened the back road behind the property.

Staring at the spot Alec was pointing to, I sorted out the shadowy forms of six men in camouflage gear similar to ours. My acute vampire vision registered that only their eyes stood out from their heavily painted faces.

My voice very low, I said, "Later I want to know about this fairy fragrance, my son."

"You Yank vamps aren't the only innovators, dad."

Instead of a biting retort, I clamped my hand on Alec's shoulder as six men came out of the house. The two on guard in the van joined them at the back of the vehicle.

"So much for your Canadian intelligence, sheriff."

"Now the odds are even. Makes for a better fight."

Despite the gravity of our situation, I couldn't help a chuckle at how much like me my child was in his vampire nature.

From inside the van, the men removed several items of what I recognized as sophisticated torture equipment. Their laughter and bloodstained clothing indicated that they had been enjoying some perverse fun with Bill, and were planning to continue into the night before they ultimately killed him.

Without a word, Alec disappeared around the periphery of the hit squad to the tight knot of Mounties hidden in the trees. Minutes later in a blur of movement, he was back beside me.

"The inspector confirms these eight are the only humans involved. He wants to take them now while they're outside the house, and I agree. He asks that you avoid the fire fight and see to your underling."

I had been looking forward to the hand-to-hand but sensed that the request had more to do with international politics than concern for Bill Compton's condition. "Sometimes discretion is the better part of valor as the humans say." Placing my hand tightly on my child's shoulder, I said, "You be careful." I gripped his strong body possessively then let go.

We were almost of a height so our eyes were level. The emotions we exchanged were swift and deep, ending with that sweet Irish smile my child used so charmingly. An instant later, Alec had whisked across to the trees again.

As I reached the shelter of the house, I heard shouts and gunfire from the van. Foolishly attempting to flee, most of the Fellowship humans had scattered in various directions including the graveyard. One made it into the van and sped away down the hill toward the Hummingbird Road turnoff. So much for honor among haters.

In the house I found Bill tied to a heavy metal folding chair in his living room. The smell of his burnt flesh told me the thick chain holding him in place was silver. He had been stripped down to his boxers, the tight multiply wrapped loops sizzling on strategic parts of his body.

Vampires took torture quite well as I had observed personally over the centuries, physical as well as mental. In his present state, Bill Compton was a perfect example. The first layer of torture marks had already healed to faint lines. The second layer of cuts, bruises and contusions was still in the semi-raw state. The most recent abuse, deep slices that were oozing thick vampire blood down his upper body and limbs, were literally hanging open with no sign of healing yet. The handiwork was as precise and thorough as what the bad fairies had done to my Sookie a year ago.

I stepped close to my underling and called softly, "Compton?"

Slowly Bill lifted his head from where it had fallen onto his chest. The extensive damage to his face told me that at least one of the human cretins had used his head as a punching bag with great enthusiasm. His swollen eyes slitted open. Struggling to keep his head up he finally focused on my face. The reaction when he recognized me was very unexpected. Through bloody lips he smiled evilly.

Before I could reach out to begin taking apart the length of chain, a large mesh net landed on my head and covered my entire body. My first instinct, of course, was to grab the heavy links that were enveloping me like a shroud and pull it off with my protective gloves. Instead the back of my skull exploded in a blunt impact of pain.

Time had no meaning when you were unconscious. Upon awakening, you were left to wonder how long the blackness of temporary oblivion had lasted. My skull pounding with what I knew all to familiarly to be a concussion, I opened my eyes. Through the densely woven holes in the silver mesh, I saw the stark white living room ceiling above me. Ignoring the pain of the livid silver burns I felt on my face, I attempted to rise. My wrists manacled painfully in more silver in front of me, my body was too weak to move.

Completing the fresh orientation to time, the gloating smile of what had to be a rogue vampire stared down at me from her considerable height, her fangs fully extended ready to strike. Before she could speak, I asked, "Whom do I have the honor of addressing?"

Her caustic laugh caused her thick twin braids of blond hair to bounce on her broad shoulders. In a Valkyrie-like voice, she answered, "I am Marita, a soon-to-be very rich vampire. Now that my two targets are in the same place, I get to collect both my fees tonight."

I tensed, realizing this assassin, whose name meant "bitter" in Old Norse, would have headed to the Stackhouse home next if I had not been here. The battle outside was still going on but the sounds had moved to a distance as Alec and the Mounties pursued the FoTS thugs away from the Compton house. Unlike one of the human's films, I accepted that the hope of rescue was highly doubtful. What I needed to do was keep her confined to killing Bill and me so she would simply leave to collect her blood money.

Using a long-practiced delaying tactic that always worked against the arrogantly talkative type of vampire I suspected Marita was, I asked a fresh question, "Who is paying you to end me? Victor Madden?" In my present state of immobility my fate was sealed giving me the freedom to pursue another matter. Before the inevitable, I had to know who was behind the attempts on my life since Vancouver.

She laughed again, humor becoming cruelty as she kicked Bill in the stomach. "I will give this one an extra for what he has paid for twice already, the pleasure of watching you die."

My focus flicked up to Bill's face. Despite knowing he was next, his smile grew in bitter malevolence.

Whipping a sleek wooden stake out of the sheath at her waist, she knelt beside me. In Old Norse, she hissed, "You are both weak and deserve to die. It will be my pleasure to rid our race of you first, Viking." Raising the stake above her head, she prepared to plunge it into my unprotected heart.

There was a familiar thunk I recognized as a crossbow arrow driving inexorably into its target. Marita looked down at the slender piece of wood sticking out of the left side of her chest, a mixture of rage and disbelief covering her white face. Very ungracefully, her body crumpled, half on me and half onto the parquet floor.

Hearing the swift movement of Alec's hiking boots, I turned my head. In a very un-priestly act of rage, my child grabbed the assassin's still intact arm and flung her body across the room. The dead weight slammed into the back of Bill's heavily upholstered couch with such force the piece of furniture skidded toward the front windows, upending the coffee table and causing it to tumble end over end into a floor lamp.

As her vampire body began to disintegrate, Alec searched her clothing until he found the key for the manacles. Kneeling at my side, he ripped the silver net off my face then freed my wrists from the burning manacles. Jumping up, I kicked the net aside, the manacles skittering across the floor on top of it.

Anxiously taking inventory of my person as his fangs retracted, Alec asked, "Are you alright, father?"

"A bit singed here and there, but still intact. Thank you, Alec."

The crisis over, he laughed with relief. "If I hadn't rescued you, Pam would have castrated me. I have no interest in experiencing the agonies of my testicles re-growing."

I laughed along with my eldest child, knowing my youngest child would have done exactly that.

Turning to Bill, I began unwrapping him from the silver chain. He flinched silently as each link loosened, taking black flakes of his skin with them. I wanted to let my rage run freely, berating him for the coward I felt he was by hiring others to do his dirty work. Instead all I could do was feel pity for the ravaged body that would eventually heal. His mental illness that had twisted into such hatred toward me I could do nothing about. I had never experienced such a level of physical torture. What I had suffered at Ocella's hands had made me highly tolerant of physical pain from fights and from battle. My mental scars were resolved and archived. Perhaps in time, Bill's would heal as well. Sadly, the one thing he wanted, I could not and would not give him.

I threw the last of the chain aside and leaned close to his ear. "We have enough enemies among the humans. We should not be killing our own kind."

Our eyes met then Bill's head sank onto his chest again. Turning my back to give him some privacy in his recovery, I stood in front of Alec.

"Did you and the Mounties succeed in capturing all the humans intact?"

Averting his hate-filled eyes from Compton, Alec answered, "Alive, but somewhat damaged. There's a helicopter on its way to take all of them to Barksdale Air Force Base for transport home."

Noticing smears of blood at the corners of my child's mouth, I quirked an eyebrow. "I see your belated tolerance for human blood is still functioning."

Grinning proudly, Alec said, "Occasionally I enjoy a good helping of the real thing, especially when I can terrorize a deserving human into thinking I'm going to drain them."

Resignedly, I commented, "You are definitely my child."

Both of us laughing, we didn't see Bill's movement until it was too late. The heavy chain looped around my neck in a flash, burning my bare skin. Despite how the silver must have hurt, one of his thick hands tightened the metal so that it was steadily choking me. Knowing Alec was right there, I didn't feel truly threatened. The assassin's wooden stake that had been left unattended on the floor changed my surety. It was in Bill's other hand pressed accurately on the exact spot near my shoulder blade that would kill me.

"Sookie is MINE!" he bellowed and broke my skin. Pushing forcefully, demanding my heart, I was able to count the remainder of my life in seconds.

Helplessly, Alec watched unable to get behind me in time to stop Bill's killing strike. I kept my body still, knowing that my child would end this insane creature's threat to my beloved and our children so I could go to my final death in peace.

With three non-breathing vampires in the room there was a ponderous silence.

"BILL!"

The pressure of the stake going into my back ceased in mid-blow. With a flicker of my eyelids, I acknowledged the presence of my wife standing at the now open front door. Bill eased his body over slightly so he could see Sookie.

The Word of the Day from the calendar on my office desk had been "surreal", which is exactly what the next seconds became. I could feel all my mate's emotions along with a wave of power from her streak of magic. Though intense, her feelings about me were being held in check while she dealt with the direct threat against my life.

She didn't say a word. I could tell from her deep concentration she was speaking to Bill in significant thoughts. His totally open face registered so many emotions it was impossible to tell where they would finish, like watching a roulette wheel spinning at high speed. Finally, his eyes began to drip bloody tears.

"Forgive me, sweetheart," he begged. Ripping the stake out of my back, he turned it on himself.

I staggered from the pain and shock of the wood's sudden release but remained standing with Alec's help.

Bill Compton crumpled to the floor, coming to rest with a peaceful smile on his face. When I looked toward the door, Sookie was gone.

As Alec and I silently retraced the path we had taken less than two hours ago, I allowed my mind to replay all the images I had experienced tonight. Sookie's major role in Bill Compton's end had too many questions attached to it for me to deal with as yet. The why was obvious. The how was far more complex.

I felt a growing anger at my woman that I needed to sort out before I faced her again. Despite the strength she had gained from my blood and her growing fae power, she was still human, not vampire. What she had done tonight risked far too much for a being so fragile.

Into all my mental questioning, the image of Alec praying over the remains of two disintegrated vampires in Latin struck me as the most incongruous and the most meaningful for me. If I had died tonight, my former Catholic priest child would have prayed over me, blessing my journey to the Viking afterlife I no longer believed in. The prayers would have been more for comfort in his grief, I knew. My child was far from selfish, but he and Sookie would have needed those prayers more. I accepted that whatever my final death held had already been decided. I was much more concerned with my immortal life now with my wife and my unborn children.

From the time Eric and Alec had come in from the Compton house, I was scurrying around, finding things to do, and keeping a tight hold on my emotions. Unusually restrained for what he'd just been through, Eric's long, searching stare when he first saw me was unreadable. He answered only the questions that came from Pam and Jason out of necessity while Alec did most of the post-confrontation talking.

Assured that the danger had passed, Jason and Stephanie left. A quick change of clothes and barked orders to Pam to accompany him back to the house, Eric made a wordless exit to the Range Rover.

You're probably wondering why I wasn't wringing my hands in grief over Bill Compton's final death. Truthfully, I was having a tough time subduing the overwhelming panic attacks that were washing over me in torrents every time I thought about almost losing Eric tonight, twice. I could blame it all on a rush of pregnancy hormones, but that was too easy an excuse.

My redundant anxiety eased and my scurrying slowed when there was no further excuse of avoidance. I flopped down onto the couch in exhaustion. Alec had settled his long lithe frame at the other end, pensively sipping a glass of TrueBlood I'd absently handed him in my scurrying. Really looking at him for the first time, I noticed the ruddy glow that had been fully suffused under his pale skin when he'd come in from his battle with the Fellowship assassins.

The Stackhouse motor mouth I'd refined so well during my twenty-eight years was at a tongue-tied dead end. I had found it so easy to talk to the other new people in my life, DJ, Max, and Stephanie. Despite being so closely tied to Eric, I couldn't think of a thing to say to Alec Colgan.

Like almost every other vampire I'd ever met, Alec was very good looking. Not as beautiful as my Eric, but exceptionally striking. I should have formed an immediate rapport with him.

With a tinge of humor I could feel, Alec's words broke through my mental confusion. "It takes a while to collect the ashes. We vampires don't die as neatly as humans."

My eyes went wide at the matter-of-fact comment. In a heartbeat, mine to be exact, my tightly wound nerves relaxed and my body laughed in release. "My first dead vampire was named Long Shadow, a bartender at Fangtasia. Eric killed him to save my life."

"Tonight you ended Bill Compton to save Eric," he said calmly.

Unable to suppress my bitterness, I said, "I'd do it again to protect my husband and our babies." The heavy exhaustion washed over me completely, and I leaned back on the couch.

Alec's gentle voice, so new to my ears yet old in its wisdom and compassion, asked, "May I?" His hand hovered just above my lower abdomen.

With total trust, I placed his sinewy hand on the spot that sheltered and protected my precious babies.

His eyes closed, Alec's lips moved tenderly in a language I'd never heard before. Though I didn't understand the words, I felt a great peace and love flowing into me from Eric's eldest child.

He looked up at me and smiled. "That was a very ancient Irish Gaelic blessing on the unborn."

"Irish Gaelic?" I asked puzzled.

Laughing lightly, he explained, "As opposed to Scots Gaelic."

My knowledge of languages was even more limited than my exposure to history, Eric having become my greatest source of both. "There's a difference?"

Putting aside the soft Irish brogue I'd noticed in his voice, he answered in heavier intonations I assumed were a Scottish burr, "Aye, lassie, some."

"You've been to Scotland too?" As soon as I said the words I realized how silly my question was. Like Eric, he had traveled extensively over his eight hundred years of immortality both with his sire and on his own.

When Alec hesitated, I thought I had offended him. His answer came poignantly in his low, controlled tenor, "I was there at the time of the last Rising of the Highlanders."

Feeling a deep need to connect with this very special person in Eric's life, I lowered my barriers and reached out with my telepathy. There was an initial shock from Alec at the silent communication that had opened so suddenly between us. Then to my great delight, he embraced my mental quest with a pure faith that took root and began to grow in strength. Without reservation, Alec's vampire mind answered in his clear human voice.

In a panic, I began to pull back. Vampire minds had always been pretty much closed to me. With Eric, it was emotions that tied us together in our blood bond. Though there had been times what I felt from him were like clear visions of his past along with his current thoughts.

Alec must have sensed my uneasiness and gently kept my probing mind in place. I let my blue eyes lock with his warm green ones allowing the glimpse of his past to come alive. The macabre images of a body-strewn moor were haunting. A lone figure moved through the night-black field. Along with sporadic pistol shots, smudges of firelight raged garishly, pocking the bloody ground. With a faint wisp of very old pain, I felt Alec shut down his memories.

We stared intently at each other, my humanity and what remained of his in sad harmony. His reaction reminded me of Eric's emotions when he'd told me about the murders of two innocents he'd committed as an assassin for the European Consortium at the end of the Second World War. I knew at that moment that I had found a unique human/vampire bond with this rare duel-natured being that overcame the silence I had with pure vampires.

Self-consciously, Alec changed the subject. "You know all about Ocella from Eric." It was a statement rather than a question.

"Eric and I have no secrets from each other," I said remembering the vows my beloved and I had exchanged on our wedding night and reconfirmed with our New Year's resolutions. "I'm just glad that filthy pervert is dead."

I was sure Alec knew the how and when from Pam. Instead I asked a question that had been pissing me off for a long time. "After what Ocella did to Eric for all those years, why didn't Gaston punish him?" The former EC consul general was both powerful and Eric's adopted sire. As the oldest living vampire he could do anything.

"You mean 'end him'?"

"Yes!"

Alec sighed in understanding then his voice became steady and firm. "Sodomy isn't a crime to our race." He held up a hand when he saw I was about to protest angrily. "Ocella's real crime was keeping Eric half-starved so he would be forced to stay with him despite the rule against it. For that he was forbidden to have any further contact with Eric. You must remember that back then there were many living old ones who were as powerful as Gaston. They were also friends and contemporaries of "the filthy pervert" as you describe him so appropriately. Gaston was kept from doing more. Privately, he made it very clear to the Roman what would happen if he broke the banishment. He obeyed for centuries until someone tracked him down and brought him here under the mainstream radar."

Victor Madden's name came immediately to mind though a tiny prickle of something I couldn't quite put my finger on crossed with it. "Thank you for telling me all this. It fills in a lot of holes."

Alec took hold of both my hands. Very gently I felt his unusual mind probe my telepathic barriers. This second exchange of thoughts and feelings came easily. A very specific set of images blossomed in the parts of my brain that held its visual and memory capabilities.

More than the place, I felt an utter desolation of spirit from the darkness-shrouded figure standing in an open field marked by randomly placed piles of stones. The grief emanating from the tall man, head bowed, thick layers of hair glowing in the light of a full moon, was like nothing I had ever felt before.

Alec squeezed my hands affectionately then let go. I didn't have to ask him who the grieving figure was. The Viking vampire blood we shared had crossed powerfully to give me an important insight into my beloved.

I heard a car pull into the driveway. The front door opened with a flourish, and Pam strode in carrying a very large plastic storage bowl in her hands, its lid tightly sealed.

"Where do you want these ashes, Sookie?"

"On the mantel," I answered absently still caught in the thrall of my intriguing supernatural connection with Alec.

Eric walked silently by me carrying what I recognized as Bill's laptop. The connection with Alec snapped shut as I raised my barriers. Not the telepathic ones, but the ones I rarely used to control my blood bond with my husband. I watched him put the machine and a large case of disks on my computer desk on the other side of the room and open the laptop. Probing cautiously, I felt Eric's tightly shielded emotions, most of them negative, through the massive barriers he'd erected around himself.

Into the silence, Pam announced, "I flushed the bitches ashes down the toilet. Appropriate, don't you think?"

When neither Eric nor I responded, Alec went over to his bewildered sibling lover and nuzzled her ear.

Laughing lightly, Pam said, "You'll excuse us," and they headed upstairs.

Silence had many uses. It also had many faces between two people as deeply committed as Eric and I were to each other. I used this first layer of silence to watch my beloved in one of those innocent moments of simple intimacy. As young as he had been at his turning, Eric had his share of human scars. Viking raids and working the land made injuries commonplace back then. His rare scars had been minor and were hidden from everyone except me. Once he became vampire any physical injury healed, leaving his beautiful body so perfect it hurt my eyes to look at him sometimes. I occasionally wondered what he would look like with a healthy growth of blond facial hair.

The silver burns that had marred his handsome face when he'd first come in from his ordeal were gone now as was the anger and pain I'd felt earlier from him as they swept into my mind through our blood bond. There had been something else, the final impetus that had started me running across the cemetery to the Compton house. It wasn't fear but an agonizing despair he'd let escape at losing his children and me too soon.

The second layer of silence was personal, swirling rapids of conflicting emotions my lover was struggling to control. Before I could say anything, Eric said gruffly, "Go to bed, Sookie. You need your rest." His vivid blue eyes didn't move from the computer screen.

I watched his powerful hands, so capable of dispensing the depths of pain to his enemies as well as the heights of pleasure to me, as they whizzed across the keyboard.

The tone of Eric's voice told me we were on the verge of one of our rare but heated arguments. Because of the muddle of his emotions, I wasn't sure why he wanted the confrontation.

My voice soothing and conciliatory, deep with the intimacy we had come to after so many struggles, I asked, "Why are you angry with me, Eric?"

Raising his thickly lashed eyes to me across the room, he said coldly, "You disobeyed me."

It was another provocation; one he knew would normally cause me to lash out at his high-handed attitude. Instead I projected one of the images of the babies I'd gotten from Stephanie. Eric was so startled, I felt his barriers begin to fall. Not giving him time to ask, I quickly followed with the words I'd forced into Bill's mind along with the image, "If you really love me, you won't kill the father of my babies."

"You ended him," a rare note of astonishment in Eric's deep voice.

"I gave him the choice."

Eric turned completely in the chair to face me. My lover opened himself to his emotions and to me like never before. Heavy red tears began to collect at the inside and outside corners of his shimmering eyes. "Twenty years after my turning, I returned to my human home desperate to find out if my children were well. I found our family lands devastated and everyone dead. There was nothing left of my human essence on this earth with all of them gone."

I clenched my fists, recognizing the words he had used to Niall. I understood both what his true meaning had been then and the vision that Alec had shown me earlier. I also felt a nameless compulsion to keep silent a little longer.

When he spoke again it was with a tremulous smile. "The babies you carry are my second chance at true immortality. I was reconciled to my death tonight. When you risked their lives, I did not know what to do. I know you did this thing out of love for me, but the potential price was far too high. I need you and them to live before all else, my beloved wife." The whites of Eric's eyes were red now, completely coated with his tears.

"I understand and I apologize." My whole body shaking, I took Eric's hand and placed it on my abdomen. "What you must understand, my beloved husband, is that we need you just as much."

I was right in front of him, our bodies beginning the wanting and needing. I rested both my arms around his shoulders expecting him to embrace me with his long arms. To my shock, he flinched and pulled away. Vampires didn't flinch like that, especially not my vampire.

With quick expert hands, I pulled Eric's Henley shirt up and over his head and gasped. The white vampire skin had almost healed around the wide hole where Bill had plunged the rogue's stake into his back just short of reaching his heart. Protruding out a good two inches was a wicked splinter that must have broken off when Alec had pulled the large piece of wood out. Since he'd changed his clothes there was no trace of blood on the fresh shirt. His vampire body was gradually expelling the foreign object on its own but not painlessly.

Gritting my teeth, I gripped the nasty splinter and pulled. Eric shuddered as a spurt of thick blood oozed then sighed as the wound began to close completely.

Wiping my gooey red hands on his shirt, I said, "You are so damn stubborn, vampire."

Through our bond, I felt him push away the last twinges of pain. Grinning up at me suggestively, he said, "I could use a scrubbing, lover. How about a shower?"

Holding my wrist against his lips, I suggested, "You could use some nourishment first."

Taking my hand, he kissed my palm. "A bottle of TrueBlood will do. Our children come first."

I ran my fingers through his long, loose hair slowly and smiled at his naïve concern. "Tomorrow I'll make an appointment with Dr. Ludwig. I'm sure she knows of prenatal vitamins strong enough for three – two babies and one very horny vampire."

Eric laughed freely and joyfully, and crushed my body hard against him, his sensuous mouth fondling my breasts through my light knit sweater, his powerful thighs circling my legs hungrily.

Giggling and laughing together, he picked me up in his arms and carried me down the hall. We didn't know what lay ahead of us when the time came for the final confrontation with the vampire conspirators. For now, the loving Eric and I would share tonight would do its magic to wipe away the ugliness and pain this winter night had forced on us.