Peggy followed Eric into Christopher's living room, looking around at all the luscious boys, the ones who had fed her the night before, a few others, a few young vampires. Hunger pulsed inside her. Her first thought was True Blood, but on the heels of that thought was the knowledge that it would never again quite satisfy. She grabbed Eric's wrist and he turned to look at her.

They stared into each other's eyes. Peggy was aware of music pulsing softly in the background. My God, Christopher is obsessed with Lady Gaga, she thought, then she put that out of her mind and the soundtrack was just there, underscoring the issues that she had to face tonight.

"Stop thinking of him," said Eric.

"Where is he?" Peggy asked.

Eric kissed her possessively. She fisted her hands around the silk of his black shirt. Hung on. Felt as possessive as he did. Knew all of these boys were looking at him, wanting him. All except for Sam. Sam sat on the couch with his red-haired young man, Angelo Boudreaux. They were staring into each other's eyes the same was she and Eric were.

Poor Anne Marie, she thought.

Eric pushed her, and Peggy sprawled backwards over an antique sofa upholstered in crimson velvet, thick with matching pillows. She willed him on top of her, but he stood staring down at her. Without looking away, Eric jerked his fingers at a blond young man, a human who leapt to his feet at his command.

"Margaret needs blood," he said.

The young man knelt at her feet gracefully, offered his wrist. Peggy grabbed it, stroked the pale flesh. She felt his pulse beneath the pale skin. Saw the mostly-healed wound from where she had bitten him the night before. Oh, yes. The blond. He had been the sweetest of the three. And now, she wanted him again.

Her fangs snicked out, shimmering in her mouth. They felt almost as though they had a life of their own. They wanted to bury themselves in his flesh. All around them, Peggy was aware of the other humans and their emotions, their desire… jealousy, their lust to be bitten, for sex, for Christopher, for Eric.

Peggy looked up at Eric. He had schooled his expression to blank, but she could read him even better than anyone else in the room. They were connected by blood. Bound. And there was more than blood, there was their affection, their love… tested and strained though it had been lately, Peggy now knew that she should never have doubted Eric.

Ever.

"Is this what you what?" she asked softly.

His eyebrows shifted slightly in what to her was a frown – no one else was likely to have seen it or noticed. "Margaret," he said softly, sensibly, "You need blood."

"True Blood."

"Nothing has changed since last night."

"Everything has changed since last night."

Eric looked at the young man kneeling by her feet. His glance was dispassionate. His eyes flicked back up at Peggy. "Tell him to get you a True Blood, then. Do as you like, Margaret. It takes nothing away from us."

She opened her mouth to ask him if he was sure, but without her having to form the question, he nodded slightly. Peggy tore her gaze away and pulled the blond boy up into her lap. Her fingers looked pale against his throat as she stroked his skin, then sank her fangs into his throbbing vein.

She sank into a world of color, of life, of revival. It tasted so good, though she couldn't have named the flavor. The metallic tang of True Blood was completely absent. So much better. Wet, delicious, hot.

She didn't know how much time had passed before Eric pried her away. She followed his cue, not wanting to kill the young fangbanger. The boy was laughing, sounding slightly maniacal. He was aroused, but not by her. His eyes were fever bright. Peggy was aware of Christopher standing over her, lifting the boy out of her lap and away from her.

"He needs rest," Christopher said firmly. He carried the young man off into one of the bedrooms. By the time he reappeared, Eric was sitting next to her on the couch, licking the blood off of her chin. Christopher made a slight noise of disapproval. "Northman, do you need nourishment?" he waved a hand at the remaining humans.

"I am fine, thank you," said Eric.

Christopher nodded at the rest of the men and young vampires and they absented themselves, leaving only Sam, Angelo, and the three of them. A moment later, Lafayette wandered out of the back bedroom and joined them.

"He looks confused," Peggy mumbled.

"You are all confused," Eric said.

Peggy wanted to protest, but he was right. She nodded. Leaned against Eric. He drew her close, supported her. Knew then, that she wasn't really in danger of losing him. Was she? She had never felt closer to him.

Christopher cleared his throat. They all gave him their attention. Peggy forced herself to focus. Why did it seem so difficult? She knew her body was healed. She even thought her relationship with Eric was healed. Why couldn't she quite think?

"I have theory on what has happened to the three of you," he said, glancing from Peggy to Sam to Lafayette.

"We all have theories," Eric snapped. "We need facts."

Christopher glared at him. "The woman with the pink hair—"

"Is indeed a witch."

Everyone's head swiveled to look at Sophie-Anne Leclerq, Queen of the Vampires of Louisiana, who had just strode into the room followed by her companion, Andre, and two large, ancient vampire guards who Peggy remembered from their visit to New Orleans several years ago though she hadn't learned their names.

Christopher made an exaggerated bow in her direction, which Sophie-Anne waved off, as if she were used to such abeyance from him. Eric inclined his head, which for him was tantamount to a bow, and Peggy followed his lead. With bright eyes, the Queen strode forward and kissed Peggy on both cheeks, smiling softly.

"My dear Margaret, I am delighted to see you back in my city, even if the means of your arrival causes me great dismay."

"Thank you," Peggy said softly. She forced herself to fight the urge to grab Eric's hand for support. Somehow she knew it would be seen as a display of weakness. Sophie-Anne stepped back and looked Eric up and down.

"Trouble follows you everywhere, Northman," she said somewhat more sharply. Eric nodded slightly but did not reply. Sophie-Anne swung around to look at the rest of them. She stared at Angelo for a long moment, then let out a harsh laugh. "Very creative," she said, looking at Christopher. "Was this your idea, Santiago?"

"No," said Christopher, his lips twisting in a wry grin, "But it seems to be working. Rather amusing, no?"

Sophie-Anne didn't bother to answer. Her gaze came next to Lafayette, who looked at her suspiciously. "Turn into a dog," she demanded.

"Fuck, no," said Lafayette. "Who the hell is this bitch?"

The Queen's backhand smashed Lafayette back into the wall. He slid down in to the floor, rubbing his cheek, but aside from that didn't seem much harmed.

"I beg your pardon," he said, not quite keeping a sneer from his tone. "I guess that's Miss Bitch."

"Queen Bitch," said Santiago cheerfully, but he forced himself to look contrite when Andre glared at him.

"Close enough," said Sophie-Anne. "Can he really turn into a dog?"

"Yes," said Eric.

"Let's get down to brass tacks," said Andre softly. "We need to find the pink-haired witch, and we need to do it quickly."

"Do you have a suggestion of how we might do that?" Eric asked, sounding icily polite.

"Yes," said Sophie-Anne. "There's one person who can help. Without their help, the situation is very unlikely to reverse itself."

"Well, who is it?" Sam asked.

Sophie-Anne looked irked. "Why, Sookie Stackhouse, of course."

"Of course," Eric muttered. "Who else?"

"It's Sookie Compton, now," said Peggy.

"Is it?" said Andre, with interest.

"And I wasn't invited to the wedding?" Christopher complained.

"Now," said Sophie-Anne, waving a hand to silence them all, "Where is she?"