7-31-10: I want to thank bajan-martini, my new beta for reviewing this chapter and making a better reading experience for all. Thanks so much, b-m!

CHAPTER 10: Coffee At The Diner

I sat out in my car, staring at the diner. I needed to sort through my thoughts before I went in.

I was not a stupid person; I knew what was going on here. His charm and flirting were weapons that he was using to get something from me, but I didn't know what. He was an excellent flirt. Well, he should be, he's been doing it for a thousand years.

I really did not want to go into the diner. I was about to go 'make nice' face-to-face with the greatest predator to humans. We are just feeding and fucking stations to them.

Why couldn't we just call or email? Yeah! I'll call him now and tell him – oh, fuck, get your ass up and go in, dipstick!

I checked myself in my mirror and then…just sat there…Out of nowhere, a moment of clarity popped into my head and I freaked – how long have I been sitting here? I need to go in; he probably knows I'm sitting out here. Please, please, please let this fucking meeting go well and finish quickly!

I got out of my car and walked up the stairs into the diner.

As I entered, I was slightly surprised that the diner was almost full. Normally, country folk eat and are in front of their televisions by 7:00 PM. I guess the good weather had everyone hyped up.

I looked around until I saw an indication of his location. He had chosen a booth in the back of the diner, by a window, which had semi-walled, seclusion wings built in at its entrance. A person would have to lean into the booth to see who was sitting behind the seclusion wings. The reason I knew it was him was because of the large white hand that stuck up out of its top, snapping its fingers. I don't know why, but I think that's just kinda rude.

I made my way back to his table, keeping my head down. I didn't want to be recognized by anyone for several reasons, some I've mentioned, but another I haven't. I didn't want to be known for fraternizing in private with vampires. I didn't need a fang banger reputation. Call me whatever you want, but I needed the respect of the public to do my job effectively.

When I arrived at his table, he gallantly got up and did another one of those arm sweeps to indicate that I should sit. After I took my seat, he re-sat.

Leg space under our table was an issue. Since we both were tall people, it was necessary to coordinate the placement of our legs. I was worried about touching him; I didn't want him to have another hissy fit, literally. "Oh, did I get you? I'm really, really sorry." He looked at me like he wanted to say something, but then changed his mind. "Thank you for being so considerate, Sheriff. No harm done." He then gave me a dazzling smile that affected every nerve in my body. I froze in my seat while the effect washed over my body. I wondered if I blushed, I was too numb to tell.

Within seconds of getting situated, a waitress named Bea came over to take our order. She waited on me often and she was very surly - but instead of finding her offensive, I found her very amusing. Maybe she meant it that way.

Bea was a full-sized (I hate saying plus size, it seems demeaning) brunette, who wore her hair in the iconic hairdo for diner waitress – the classic beehive. She wasn't exactly pretty, but she wasn't bad to look at either. As I mentioned before, her personality could be offensive, but I considered that part of her charm.

"Evenin' Eric!" The glee in her face was as bright as a neon sign. She seemed extremely happy to see the Viking. She was even giggling. Giggling?

She knows him? She's actually being nice to someone! I wondered how and where they met.

When she recognized me, her manner completely changed, no gushing and giggling, she was back to her normal self, but she actually was being somewhat cordial. I guess she didn't want to be offensive in front of vampire Eric. "Oh hey, Sheriff. I didn't see you come in. Why, don't you look nice. I don't think I've ever seen you in real clothes." She didn't wait for my response. Instead, she turned back to the Viking and eyed him like she wanted to do more than take his order.

Her voice changed to a porno-phone-whisper thing, "Eric, would you like a True Blood? You're usual?" His usual? He comes here?

"That sounds fine, Bea." She giggled and gushed like he had just paid her the biggest compliment in the world.

"Sheriff, how about you?" She didn't gush at me; she didn't even look at me. She addressed me using her standard bored-to-tears attitude, the cordiality was completely gone. It was funny how fast she turned her charm on and off like that.

"I'll have coffee and cream, you know, my usual?" She didn't respond to me, instead she kept looking at the Viking. She smiled and winked at the him. Her porno whisper came back. She leaned slightly towards the Viking, "I'll be right back." She giggled and then left to get our order. I actually felt a few bubbles of nausea gurgling up my throat.

The vampire was staring at me; he seemed to be waiting for me to ask the question. What the hell – "Do you come here often?"

With a big, sly smile, he responded, "Yes, actually I do."

I took a moment to comprehend. When? I come here all the time and I've never seen you.

"Really? Gee, I come here – I practically live here during certain weeknights and I've never seen you. Ever."

"I guess our schedules aren't the same. I come here mostly at night. Late."

"Really?" He nodded 'yes' in response. He seemed to be enjoying this moment, like he had pulled one over on me.

"Why do you come here?" Instead of my curiosity ebbing, it was increasing.

"I have property in the area." He answer seemed a smidge curt; his attitude suggested that he was bored with the subject matter.

I just couldn't wrap my head around the fact that he came to this diner on a regular basis. It just seemed too 'normal.' I guess he was attempting to 'mainstream,' as the vampires were calling socializing with humans.

I was concentrating on the vampire so intently that I didn't notice when someone had walked up to our booth. Her name was Missy, a young, pretty, busty, little blonde who was another waitress at the diner. I actually jumped when she spoke, startled to realize that she was there.

"Ooooh, Hey, Eric! Did someone take your order?" She was cooing like a horny dove. She seemed intent on showing her bosom to the vampire, and he was obliging her by focusing his full attention on it.

"Yes, Bea took it." She did a little girl pout, and she looked really pretty doing it. I could never pull that off. "Oh, well, if you need anything, you'll let me know?" She then leaned forward and whispered, "I get off around 11:30 tonight." He whispered back, "I have plans." She looked like she was going to cry.

I jumped into the conversation to help her save face and because I was getting tired of being ignored. Despite my desire to not be associated with a vampire, my ego got the best of me. "Good evening, Missy!"

She turned to me and stared at me like she didn't know me. "Huh? Do I - Oh, ooohhhhh, hey Sheriff. You look real different in clothes." I could tell she really didn't care about my appearance.

"Well, let me get back to my tables." She sashayed away, still in a little funk, and I saw her look back at the vampire, hoping he was watching her walk away. I don't know if he caught her look. When I looked away from her and back at him, I found him glancing at my chest.

"Ms. Lautner, it seems I'm not the only one that admires your appearance. I have to admit, I almost didn't recognize you when I first saw you. This soft, feminine look is extremely becoming on you."

"Well, I can't dress like this for my job. There's no place for my gun." I snickered and then was surprised and horrified when an unintended nose snort escaped from me. I immediately felt embarrassed.

I looked down at my lap; I could feel his eyes on me. I felt awkward.

There was dead silence between us. Awkward, awkward…more awkward…crickets chirping…I am not going to say anything; it's your show big boy…nothing….nothing. Oh fuck it, "Well Mr. Northman-"

"Call me 'Eric.' You must start calling me 'Eric' or I will be highly offended. It's not hard to pronounce, 'Air – ick.' Give it a try." He tilted his head and gave me a sweet, sexy smile that made me salivate and swallow.

Okay, I'll play nice. "Aiiiiir..ick. Got it"

"Now say it fast."

"What?" Is this guy for real?

I took a dramatic breath, exhaled it loudly and then said it very quickly. "Eric."

"See, that didn't hurt, did it? You didn't burst into flames. You're still here and breathing." He was talking to me like a parent would talk to a child, as if I had just eaten some dreaded vegetable and was being praised.

Well, he's right. I've been kind of weird about saying his name…"Eric." I playfully said it again, not as fast, and to make the point that I didn't hate saying his name. He nodded his head and mouthed the word, 'good.'

Pause…silence…more silence. He looked at me through squinted eyes, but luckily, he was smiling – slightly. "Now, this is when, in polite conversation, you tell me your name." He was back to talking to me like I was a child.

"Jo….Eric, my name is Jo. But you already knew that, right?"

He ignored my question. He just stared at me. His smile had turned patronizing. "What is Jo short for?"

"…Josephina."

"A very old and noble name. It suits you. I think I would prefer to call you Josephina."

"No, you won't, you'll call me Jo, which is what I prefer." I was feeling a little agitated and I know I was being rude, but I really didn't like people calling me 'Josephina.' The teasing from my childhood still stings to this day.

We had a little stare-down for a couple of seconds.

"Okay, 'Jo' it is."

Our drinks arrived and we busied ourselves with preparing them.

I started to feel nervous. Images and thoughts flashed in my mind – the broken chair arm, the concept of glamouring, and the fact that he was actually a dead corpse sitting across from me.

I started to fidget and as inconspicuously as possible, checked to see where all the exits were. I felt a panic rising in me and my heart started to pound faster in my chest.

"Calm down." I looked up at him, but he wasn't looking at me, he was staring out the window though he was talking to me.

"What?"

"Your blood pressure is starting to rise. You seem to have become upset by something. Just…calm down. Take deep breaths and release them slowly"

I stared at him, slightly dumbfounded. "How did you…?"

"I can sense your pulse increasing in speed and your breath is quickening." He was talking very quietly and carefully, as if he was trying not to frighten me.

He turned away from the window and faced me. "We got off to a bad start and it's steamed rolled into something neither one of us likes. I suggest that we start again."

I took a sip of coffee and then nodded my head. "That would be nice."

"I think you know what I'm capable of…I know what you are capable of…I don't think we need to 'go there' any more, do you?" He was whispering very slowly, almost seductively.

I did not want to look into his eyes, the glamouring concept was up front and center in my mind.

"Mr. North…Eric…your name keeps popping up on our radar. Perhaps you should reconsider your actions. Perhaps you should try to avoid any activities that would draw attention to yourself. "

I looked at him but got no reaction. "I'll leave you alone and won't bother you, as long as there is no reason to do so." Again, I got no response from him.

I continued, "Listen…I really don't know what your responsibilities are as a vampire sheriff is in your community, but I'm hoping that it's like mine. We keep the peace – serve, and protect. Is that how it is for you?" I force myself to look directly into his eyes but only for a moment, I had to turn away. So, I stared out the window.

"Somewhat."

"Okay, then we are in simpatico. We relatively want the same thing. So…why don't we work together, you know – you watch your vampires, I'll watch the humans…we communicate when necessary…like that."

"We can be 'comrades in arms'?"

"YES! That's exactly how I feel – and what I want, too."

We looked at each other for a few seconds and then I looked out the window, again.

"I'm not trying to glamour you; you can stop doing your eye maneuvers."

I looked out the corner of my eye at him. He had a soulful look on his face, almost as if he was hurt by my distrust. Yeah, right. Like I would fall for that crap.

I turned my head so that I was looking directly in his face. Despite myself, I chuckled. I guess my 'maneuvers' looked kind of comical.

"You are very striking when you smile. I have to say that I really am enjoying meeting this side of you." His voice had become very soft and seductive in quality; I felt a quiver in the pit of my stomach, which sent tremors to southern parts in my body.

I blushed; I could feel a warm, tingly rising flush rising up my neck. I felt so embarrassed by the feelings that his compliments created in me.

Hey! He's just playing you. Get a grip. I took a quiet, deep breath and let it out, forcing my blush and flush to go away. "Look, you really don't have to do this big 'Ricco Suave' thing…" He looked puzzled to my reference of the ridiculous lothario from the old wine commercials.

Oh, what the hell, play along with him. "Actually, you are extremely…pleasant to look at yourself. But you know that. I know you do." I smiled pleasantly at him, watching for his reaction to my compliments.

He looked very pleased. "You find me attractive? I am very flattered."

"Mr….Eric, you are bitch candy. Any women with a drop of estrogen in her would find you attractive." I stated this in a very matter-of-fact manner, not smiling as sincerely as I had been. His little game was becoming a bit too obvious to enjoy.

He narrowed his eyes and looked displeased with my pseudo-compliment. He then did a slow, deliberate scan over every point off my body showing above the table. He was trying to make me feel uncomfortable, and he was succeeding.

"Jo, I don't find many human women attractive. Most want to be used, and I oblige them, but very few are truly attractive to me. It is quite rare for me. Please take my compliments, as they are intended."

I suppressed a chuckle, closed my eyes and wiped my hand over them. He was really going too far with the compliment crap and it was getting silly. I could feel a headache coming on. I wanted to get away from this bullshit flirting. I had a legitimate question that I wanted answered. But, would he truthfully answer it?

"How can someone…a human…know if they are being glamoured…say, I pull over a vampire, and he –"

He let out an exasperated sigh, and shook his head 'no.' He made a teeth-sucking sound, "Jo, you have a one track mind. Alright - if I tell you about 'glamouring,' then you'll have to tell me something that I want to know."

"Quid pro quo? Okay, I'm game. Within reason."

"Of course." He paused and then spoke again, "Normally, humans can't tell if the glamouring is occurring, but it's not impossible. I'm told that you can feel a sensation in your brain, along with a buzzing or ringing sound, which is then followed by a feeling of dizziness, and then euphoria."

"How does someone resist it?"

He smiled, "That's two questions."

"Okay, ask me a question."

"Are you involved with anyone, romantically?"

I was a little shocked at the question, "What? No." What a weird question. I mean of all the questions he could ask.

"Really?" He sounded like he didn't believe me. "Deputy Chief Jeffers is not your –"

I interrupted him, "No, we are just friends. We've known each other for years; he's like a brother to me. Hey, very sneaky - that's more than one question!"

He leaned forward, and rested against the edge of the table, focusing on my lips. He smiled a seductive, lust-provoking smile that was now becoming infamous in my mind, "No, Jo. Same question, just confirming the information."

"My turn." He nodded his concurrence and placed his elbows on the table, crooked his arms up so that he would rest his chin on fisted hands. I just couldn't meet his eyes. It was too uncomfortable.

I asked my second question, "How does someone resist it?"

He seemed to consider my question, before answering. "Looking away is a possible key to resistance, but not always. Glamouring happens so quickly that it is very hard for most humans to look away in time. Furthermore, to complicate things for poor humans, powerful vampires can glamour using just their voice. There are some humans that aren't affected by glamouring and some that can resist it. But they are quite, quite rare. I'm not saying it's impossible to resist glamouring, but it is extremely difficult. Very, very difficult. Glamouring is a very… effective tool for us."

"Wow," was the only response that I could muster. It was very unsettling to hear this. "Thank you for telling me all of that. I hope you didn't violate any major vampire law by telling me that. Hey – that was a rhetorical question, not my new question!" I laughed, hoping to bring some lightness to the serious mood we were in. He politely smiled back at me.

He had leaned closer towards me, his long frame providing him plenty of support. He was so close that I could smell his cologne, which was like him - seductive, unique, and sensory disturbing. He smiled that smile, and I honest-to-God thought that my spine was melting. He very slowly tilted his head to the side, and then took a tour of my face, lingering at my lips before moving to other parts. He ever so slowly, licked the inside part of his top lip…I really wanted to kiss him…so very badly. Was he inviting me to kiss him?

Someone laughed loudly in a nearby booth; it brought me out of my sex-heated stupor. I blinked myself back to reality, and then quickly sat up straight, stretching my spine as straight up as possible, to the point of discomfort. My head starting pounding – blood had rushed to my head when I made my quick body adjustment. The pain shocked away the lust and longing. I rubbed my temples and choked out, "It's your turn – question, I mean."

He re-positioned himself on the table, the movement caught my attention and I looked at him. Very, very slowly, as not to scare me, he reached across the table and placed his right hand, palm up, next to my left hand that I had clasped around my coffee cup.

"Have you ever touched a vampire?" I hadn't really touched him when I did the slap-happy thing to him back at the Piggly Wiggly. It had happened so fast that I couldn't really tell what he felt like. I shook my head 'no.'

"Place your hand on my hand. It will help you overcome your…prejudice against us."

I stared at his hand and looked into his eyes briefly. I then looked at my hand and mentally asked it if it wanted to touch him.

"Oh, wait – you don't like to be touched." That sounded so childish and feeble, but it was the best that I could muster at the time. All of my nerves were vibrating and I felt like my body was unhooking from my brain.

He quirked up the right side of his mouth and then very slowly and quietly whispered, "I want you to touch me, Jo. My hand will be cool, don't be alarmed."

I went back to looking at our hands. I could feel him looking at me. My hand decided to try it. I moved my hand over his and then hesitated. Do I touch him with a finger or should I put my hand on his –

His hand lying under my hovering hand moved up quickly and grabbed my hovering hand. The suddenness of it made me jump. I didn't dare look at him. I was too afraid – I was on sensory overload.

His hand was large, strong, and cold. I didn't like the coldness and tried to pull away but he held on. He wasn't hurting me, but I could sense that if I tried with more force to pull away, I would probably get hurt. He was not letting go.

"Your hand is very warm, Josephina."

"I run hot. My mother…was like that." It was odd. The coolness of his hand actually started to feel good. It had a cooling effect that I really liked. I was always so hot.

Jo, snap out of it. "Eric, whose turn, is it? Let's just…" I tried pulling my hand away, "Eric, you need to let-"

"Shhh, calm down Jo. This is just a trust exercise, haven't you done these before?"

I had, but not with a vampire who scared and excited me all at the same time. My head was really hurting now. I refused to look at him. I tried to calm my fears, but I was mentally pleading with him: please let go, please let go of my hand..,

He chuckled, and it sounded as if his mouth was very close to my ear. The fingers on the hand that he using was to keep me captive started to caress the palm of my captured hand. He whispered, "Tell me, Josephina, why do –"

His cell phone rang at the same moment as he spoke. I instantly realized that he and I had our heads side by side, and I quickly pulled back away from him. My abrupt movement, combined with the loudness of the cell phone chime, distracted him enough so that I was able to snatch my hand away. I tried covering my clumsy retreat with humor and exclaimed "Saved by the bell!"

He smiled and winked at me. He pulled back to his side of the table, pulled his phone off his belt and looked at the caller's number. Holding up his index figure to me, he said "Sorry, I have to get this." He answered it with a 'yes.' Then he said, "three hours," and hung up. He gave me a mock, dramatic little frown and said, "I'm sorry, but I have to leave." Then, he smiled very seductively, "Why don't we have dinner sometime soon?"

"Oh, we can't do that – people will think we're in love," and I then burst out in fake laughter, which sounded uneven and nervous.

His face froze, with an expression of pure bewilderment mixed with disbelief. I'm such a moron.

"No, no! I'm joking…it's a song…'South Pacific'…the play…movie…there's a song, 'people will say we're in love,'" and I actually sang that little phrase for him. What the fuck is wrong with me? He was now looking at me as if he were a scientist, looking through a telescope, examining a rare fungus.

"It's alright Josephina, calm down –"

"Jo – it's Jo!"

"Yes, it's 'Jo.' I meant 'Jo.'"

"No! It's okay!" A strange cocktail of emotions was surging through me. I was celebrating the end of a very uncomfortable moment, and feeling the joy that a caged animal feels right before it is released.

"Really! Really, it's okay. I'm sorry, the song...it was stupid, I didn't mean anything…It's like I have Tourette's Syndrome, I don't have Tourettes, …though, there's nothing wrong with that – I joke to relieve tension, not that I'm tense…I just joke – quirky…perverted at times," I laughed nervously. This was not going well.

I'll try this again. "No! I didn't mean that, I'm not a pervert…Do you eat? You don't eat, do you? I mean food, human stuff… I don't mean eat humans –"

He started smiling right after my song, and then he changed to silent chuckling through my Tourette's rant, and was now quietly laughing. He held up his hand to stop me right after the 'eating humans' part, "How about coffee?"

"Good! That's GREAT! I'm looking forward to it – already." I was over-selling my response, but I was feeling greatly relieved because he was now situating himself so that he could stand. FREEDOM was coming!

I suddenly had an epiphany and didn't like it. The last time I acted this weird and felt this self-conscious was in high school. Chance Harding, the head of the football team had stopped me in the hall to ask me a question about our math class. I, along with every female in high school, had a crush on him. I turned into blubbering idiot while trying to respond to him. Oh, God. Why didn't I see this before? What an idiot I am. I'm a stupid shithead…

"And you still owe me a question." He said quietly, pulling me out of my memory. He stood up and towered over our table. He looked down at me as if he were considering something and then he smiled the sexiest smile I have EVER seen on this good Earth of ours, completely surpassing his infamous smile.

"Until we meet again…have a nice evening, Jo." He slightly bowed his head and then walked away. Man, he's got a walk like a panther stalking prey. A thrill shot through my stomach. Hey, Jo – shithead! Knock it off!

He stopped by Bea and whispered something in her ear; she giggled and curled her shoulders into her chest. His closeness had the same effect on her that it had on me. They exchanged a few words like they were sharing a naughty secret. He then ended the conversation, which lasted less than twenty seconds, and continued on his way out to his car.

I could clearly see him at his car. He opened the door, hesitated, and he turned his head so that he made eye contact with me. He flashed a sexy smile, not a high wattage one like the one he made before leaving our table, but it was just as effective. I nodded back at him.

I took a deep breath and then let it out. I realized that I was covered in sweat and I felt tired, like I had just come off a ten hour tour of duty. Huh, he didn't touch his True Blood. My coffee was hardly touched either and it had gone cold. I pulled out my change purse and waved Bea over for the bill. She came trotting over, "Bea the bill-"

"Oh, Eric took care of it! He's such a great tipper! He's IS somethin', aint' he?" I gave her a polite smile and replied, "Yes, he really is…something."

Later, while preparing for bed, I went over my meeting with Eric. Damn, Eric flipped and dipped me every which way, didn't he? Military interrogators could learn a lot from him. My headache was much better. The Advil I had taken was working its magic.

I wondered how much of his little performance was his 'art' – flirting, seduction, and manipulation and how much was glamouring. He had to have done some glamouring, that couldn't have been only pheromones bumping around.

Then, reality really hit home and it hit so hard that I had to sit down.

He is a dead 'thing' that you are flirting with. A monster that has killed thousands and he's just playing with his food when he flirts…I'm out of my league, way, WAY out of my league. He breaks metal, girl! I wouldn't have a snowball's chance in hell if I had to go hand to hand with him. He could snap my neck …

I mentally slammed a door and back away from those thoughts. Just shake it off, Jo. No fear... NO FEAR… I've had to do this mental adjustment many, many times in my lifetime. I've made it through Hell and back, which may surpass or equal anything that Eric could dish out. Maybe, my luck will stay with me.

The fact that Eric was making an effort to ingratiate himself to me was a good sign. It meant that I was of value to him and I was going to have to bet my life on that theory - being valuable to Eric was the key to a high survival rate around him. God, I hope I'm right about this.

As I was lying in bed, seeking out the cool spots under the sheets, because they cooled me down, when it occurred to me that I now was mentally calling him 'Eric,' not the 'Dead Guy,' the 'Viking Vampire,' the 'Asshole' or combinations therein. Yep, he was good at working that 'voodoo that he do so well.'

The next day, a very expensive, ergonomic chair from a high end manufacturer was unexpectedly delivered to my office. The note attached read, "Coffee soon. E-"