Thanks to Charlaine Harris for bringing us this wonderful world. I hope you guys have enjoyed this noir spin on SVM as much as me! It's been tons of fun to write. I want to especially thank Cageyspice for editing for me. She has a way of switching up a few words so I say "that's exactly what I meant!"
Mine. I'd heard that promise before, given myself over to it completely and without reservation. What I hadn't realized in my naïveté was that from a vampire, it wasn't the valentine hearts-and-candy sentiment of love or infatuation, but total and complete possession.
I wouldn't do that again.
"I'll always be my own, Eric." I couldn't look him in the eye, but I couldn't pull away from him, either.
A singer took the stage with the band, her rich cocoa skin glowing in the low light. She wore a long black dress and her hair pulled back into a tight bun with a fresh bloom tucked into the knot. The crowd took a collective breath in anticipation. Over a low, minimal, trumpet solo, she started singing. Her voice was intimate and vulnerable, just like the moment.
"Do you dance, Sookie?" Eric asked.
I did dance. I loved to dance. I couldn't sing—especially not like the woman currently seducing the bar with her sultry voice—but I could dance. My problem was that most dancing required a partner, and one you were expected to touch. Those conditions robbed it of all its pleasure in my case, since I would be bombarded by his thoughts.
"I do," I replied, and, before I knew it, I was swaying back and forth to the slow jazz in Eric's arms.
It might have been awkward, given our height differences, but, whether it was because he was a vampire or just his natural coordination, Eric danced well. I was aware of nothing more than Eric's hand on my lower back and my cheek against his shirt.
I let the music flow through me as we rocked back and forth following the delicate rhythm of the drum since the tenor saxophone solo was irregular. The soloist's lush voice was magic; the mood, intoxicating. It hit me harder than the gin.
The song was one of longing, of devotion. It was neither a song of young, carefree love, nor a song of possibility. A deep ache settled into my heart. I sighed in resignation, letting the bittersweet tune carry me away.
The song wound down, and I pulled back from Eric to watch the singer hold the last note. She held the note longer than I thought possible, and her voice was so powerful I felt it in my bones. Her eyes swept the crowd, pausing on me just long enough that I could see the deep sorrow reflected in hers. You couldn't fake singing like that—you had to feel it. She'd had her heart broken, too.
"It's time to go now," Eric said, pulling me out of the moment.
Quiet applause erupted in the crowd as the singer smiled and stepped off the stage. Just like that, the spell was broken.
"Where?" I asked.
"With me."
I didn't have much of a choice, so I didn't bother to argue. "Let's go."
"Wait here one moment," Eric said, then left me in our booth and darted off to the back room, leaving me to think.
I was glad for the interruption to my train of thought when the enigmatic singer sat down across from me.
"Seat taken?" she asked. Even her speaking voice was thick and warm and sweet like maple syrup.
"No. Sit, please. You were absolutely spellbinding."
A shy smile curved the corners of her mouth. "Pamela asked me to sing. An audition. I only hope she liked it." Her dark complexion couldn't hide the blush that tinted her cheeks. "If I could get a job, in a place like this, singing instead of …" She'd be happy and healthy, she thought. She didn't know anything about what kind of place this really was, and I didn't have the heart to tell her.
"I'm sure she thought you were just lovely," I said, because from what little I knew, Pam had good taste. "But be careful."
"You too, Miss. That man you were dancing with looks like a heartbreaker." She smiled at me conspiratorially.
I couldn't help but agree as the vampire in question emerged again. With his intense eyes, he looked as sharp as a knife—and just as full of violent promises.
I called "good luck" over my shoulder to the singer, wishing I'd gotten her name before Eric took my arm and led me out toward the back door. Pam took my vacated seat, so I could only hope that I'd see her again, at least, if I survived the night.
Eric took me out through the rear entrance and we walked down the alley, which brought back unsettling memories of fleeing Death Warmed Over after the raid.
"Relax," Eric said as he slipped an arm around me.
I tried not to worry that he was able to sense my tension.
"Maybe I'd feel better if I knew what I was in for. Care to share?" I asked.
A long piece of time stretched out between us. The ominous clack of my high heels against the gravelly pavement was the only sound in the otherwise silent night.
"Do you have much family, Sookie?"
"Just my brother." Which was why it had been so important for me to get involved with Eric in the first place. Though Eric had confirmed it, I'd always assumed Hadley had died, and when Gran passed, that made my brother and me the only remaining Stackhouses. I was unlikely to carry on the family line, so I could only hope that Jason would settle down with a nice girl and have some fat babies.
"And you value family, don't you?"
"Of course." Who didn't? I stopped our march down the dark alley and turned toward him. "Don't you?" And I immediately regretted my words. Eric would have no family, or at least not what I thought of as family. Not anymore. Everyone from his human life would be long dead.
For a moment, Eric's thoughts felt far away, though I shouldn't have been able to tell such a thing. I blamed my insight on his strangely revealing eyes, which said more with a single glance than most men could communicate in a rousing speech.
"Eric, what's this about?"
"Your family. You'd be thankful to find another branch, would you not?"
"Well, I suppose so."
He took my hand in his and squeezed it reassuringly, but I couldn't shake the unsettling feeling in my gut. I didn't get a chance to ask for him to elaborate before we arrived at our intended destination.
"We're here."
'Here' was a private club, one that made me almost dizzy at the thought of entering it. Whatever magic warded this place was strong, stronger than anything I'd ever encountered, and I counted a witch among my closest friends.
Eric's hand reached to turn the knob to open the door, then he turned to me and paused. "I'm bringing you here to fulfill an old debt. Just so you know, this wasn't my idea."
"Is that supposed to comfort me?"
"No." Then he kissed me, long and hard on the mouth, and I wondered if that had been intended too, but didn't have time to ask. The magic trying to keep me from entering was giving me a serious case of nausea, and I didn't want to throw up on Eric's polished shoes.
We were greeted by a short, gnome-looking creature who was different from any other supernatural being I'd ever encountered. He eyed me skeptically for a moment, then turned his head up to view Eric, and his expression softened.
"This will be Miss Stackhouse, then," he said, and Eric nodded. "Very well."
Eric dropped his arm from around me, and I felt the loss, although my stomach was feeling a lot better now that I'd been welcomed into the club. "I'm not welcome here, Sookie. Or, I should say, my kind isn't. I'll wait for you outside."
Panic rose in me. Even if I didn't trust Eric, I still felt some comfort in his presence. I felt as if he'd walked me into the lion's den and abandoned me. I wondered if this had all been some sort of trap. But he was gone before I could protest, and the gnome was clearing his throat in an attempt to get my attention.
"This way, Miss Stackhouse."
I followed him through a dining room until we got to a back corner where the most startling man I'd ever seen rose to greet me. His long white hair was pulled back elegantly, and though his face was wrinkled, it glowed with a regal beauty I'd never seen in a human before. He was definitely something other.
"It brings me great pleasure to finally meet you, my dear." He took my hand in his, and his skin felt like thin paper, dry and smooth.
"May I ask who you are?" Maybe not my most well-mannered but I wasn't interested in social niceties at the moment.
"I am Niall Brigant. And you are descended from my line."
"I think I need to sit down," I said, suddenly feeling a bit lightheaded.
After I took a long drink from the glass of water at the table, I felt calm enough to hear him out.
Niall explained over the most delicious meal I'd ever had that he was my great-great grandfather. And a fairy prince.
It made sense. I'd always been different, and there'd never been an explanation. Of course, Jason wasn't like me, and my dad and Aunt Linda had never seemed different. But it wasn't surprising to learn I wasn't exactly human, even though I still wasn't clear on the various creatures that made up the hierarchy of the fae.
It was, however, hard to imagine my grandmother cavorting with a fairy, but I didn't judge her for it. Thinking about how she carried the weight of that secret with her only made that she was gone forever sting that much more. I'd never hear her side of the story of an illicit love affair with a beautiful and dangerous supernatural creature. Because whatever the truth of my family history, that much was obvious. As grandfatherly as Niall looked, and as thrilled as I was to find more family, I could feel his power and self-interest even if I couldn't hear his thoughts.
He laid his hand over mine, and his touch was cold and strange, but I was too scared to pull it away. "You are Adele's granddaughter, that's for certain," Niall said, and I wondered if he'd picked up on my line of thought.
"You met my gran?" I'd been curious, of course, but more than anything, I wanted to distract him long enough to gather my wits. My thoughts were racing, trying to figure out what his goal was in summoning me here now, and why it had been through a vampire, since Niall had explained how dangerous they were to his kind. It was better to let my detective instincts take over, rather than rely on my emotions, which could be much more easily manipulated.
"Only once. Fintan, my son, didn't want me to know his human family. And given what is happening now, I can't say that I blame him." His smile dropped from his face, and an unmistakable look of guilt flashed over his features.
In my experience, powerful supernatural beings did not feel guilty often, and I didn't think it was a good sign.
"Then how do you know we're alike?" I asked, morbidly curious about any detail that might shed light on issues I'd never be able to discuss with my grandmother.
"She had the essential spark, too." Niall winked at me and I narrowed my eyes at him.
"What do you mean?"
My fairy great-grandfather smiled at me indulgently and gave me the look parents give their children when they attempt to explain something that is intuitive to an adult but impossible to comprehend for someone with limited life experience. "An openness to the supernatural world. Fintan loved human women who had it. It's quite rare." Naill's expression changed to one of grave determination, and he gripped my hand tightly. "But people who possess it are destined to do great things. It's why the others fear you; you represent an alternative—threat to the status quo."
I eyed him skeptically; I'd never felt like I had a great destiny or as if I threatened any power structure. All I'd ever wanted was to make my own way in this world and find happiness where I could. Not exactly the stuff of epic myths.
"Why is it you are seeking me out now?"
"For one, Fintan worked to keep you hidden from me while he still lived. Then the divisions between our kind became so deep, so firmly entrenched, I knew it was only a matter of time before they hunted you down. And now Eric tells me it is not only the water fae who seek you out." Niall shrugged his shoulders and leaned back in his chair. "I suppose it is a stroke of luck that he found you first."
There were so many questions crowded in my head, fighting for priority. Who were the water fae? Could they have been responsible for the attack in the alley or the car accident? What did divisions between warring fae factions have to do with me, when I was, at best, only one-eighth fairy? But, "How do you know Eric?" eventually tumbled out first.
"That, my dear, is a story for another time."
I glanced at my watch. I needed a new one. Like always, it said 7:15. My instincts told me more time had passed than I'd realized, as the dining room had emptied out while we'd been talking. "It's late," I said.
"It is, and the vampire is waiting. Patience was never his strong suit. You'd think after all the time..." Niall trailed off with a chuckle as he stood from his chair. I stood as well, and he put his hands on my shoulders and bent to kiss my cheek, lingering long enough to inhale deeply.
The sound of a scuffle broke me out of my daze. Eric had pushed past the gnome who'd been guarding the door. Niall was right. Eric wasn't patient.
Niall and Eric exchanged some significant glances, and I let out a huge yawn.
"It was … nice to meet you," I said to Niall. Though I wasn't sure that was the best word to describe the encounter, I couldn't think of a more precise one. I didn't protest when Eric slipped his arm around me again. It was comforting to have his support.
"I hope to see you again soon, dear one," the fairy prince said. "Be safe." He turned to Eric. "I expect you will assist in that matter."
"Miss Stackhouse is quite capable. But I will do what I can," Eric replied as his grip tightened on my hip. Niall snorted as if it were a joke, but I wasn't going to try and discern the punch line.
We were both silent on the walk home. The bars that had been bursting with revelers were now subdued, and our moods echoed the quiet streets. Given my recent near-death experiences, I wouldn't have thought that an evening so light on action would leave me this drained, but, between seeing Bill and finding out my strange heritage, not to mention my conflicted feelings for Eric, I was dead tired.
"I expected you to ask more questions," Eric said once we were back in my apartment.
I still did have lots of questions, but not the energy to ask them. "I'm not sure where to start," I replied honestly.
He took a few steps forward, walking over my name where the shadow of the door's stencil cast it on the floor. He could just as easily stomp all over my heart if I let him.
"Tonight was a night for revelations," he said cryptically.
I slipped off my cranberry coat and hung it on the rack by the door. Eric hadn't taken his off. I guessed that meant he wasn't staying. I wasn't sure how I felt about that.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Eric may have been the enigmatic vampire prone to mysterious comments left open to interpretation, but I wasn't in the mood for it tonight. I collapsed on my sofa, then rested my elbows on my knees and leaned forward to rest my head in my hands so I could rub the headache out of my temples. The voices in my head were my own, and I couldn't do anything to block out my own conscience.
I didn't notice Eric had moved until he was right beside me. I sighed heavily and turned to him. "What is it that you want from me?"
"I want you to be mine," he said.
"I know what that means, Eric. And I can't—won't—do it."
"You are attracted to me." As if to prove his point, he leaned in closer, then ran his hand up my arm and around my neck, and I couldn't deny the effect his touch had on me. "And I am very attracted to you." To prove that point, he laid his other hand on my knee and turned me towards him, smiling widely enough that I could see his fangs.
If it had been as simple as that, I'd have had no problem going to bed with Eric. If the stray thoughts I'd picked up from several women that first night at Death Warmed Over, or tonight at his new bar, were any indication, Eric was a very skilled lover. I was certainly not immune to his charms any more than I was ignorant of his caveats.
"Yes, I am, and I can't say I'm not flattered that you feel the same. But, considering everything that's going on, I don't think acting on that attraction is such a good idea."
"I disagree," he said, and leaned forward and kissed me, slowly, leisurely, and damned if my hands didn't pull him towards me and my lips didn't reciprocate.
"It seems to me that you can do this, Sookie. You do it very well," Eric said with a satisfied smirk when he broke off our kiss to let me catch my breath.
I thought of the vampire queen of Louisiana who wanted to annex me for the use of my telepathy. I thought of the water fae who wanted me dead for reasons still unknown to me. They were very good justifications for not getting even more involved with the vampire in front of me. But they were also reasons not to turn myself away from a moment of pleasure, no matter how fleeting.
A piece of Eric's hair had come loose from his braid, and I reached up to tuck it behind his ear, let my hand trace around his jaw and then ran my thumb across his lips.
"How does this work?"
Eric pulled me into his lap, so my knees were on the outside of his thighs. He narrowed his eyes at me and said, "I hardly think you are completely inexperienced in the matter, Sookie."
I felt my cheeks grow hot. I may not have had many notches in my bedpost, but I wasn't completely ignorant of the carnal arts. Though it wasn't hard to understand Eric had assumed that I was referring to the physical act. After all, I was straddling him.
"Not that. This." I brought his hand to rest over my heart and placed mine on the same spot on his chest.
His long fingers reached up to brush over my nipple through the silky fabric of my dress.
"I guess we'll have to learn."
And everyone learns FASTER ON FIRE, which I'm thinking is going to be the title of the sequel. I'm going to toss around some ideas for a noir mystery for Sookie to solve, and after I meet some of my original writing goals and finish To Wish Impossible Things, I plan on doing a follow up to My Private Eye. This story marinated in my mine for a good six months before I wrote it, so look for the sequel late summer.