A/N

Hi there.

I'm so sorry I've been absent for the last few weeks. As some of you may have picked up from my profile, I've had a bit of an RL crisis, with my son being seriously ill. He's now on the mend, and so I can take my mom hat off (like I ever could) and put my fanfic hat back on. Thanks so much for all your patience and for the messages of support and goodwill you've sent me. I truly appreciate it. Let's hope we can get back to (what passes for) normal.

Hope you enjoy this chapter, but it's probable that you won't - it's quite sad.

AAE

Chapter 10

SPOV

"You know that maximum security section? That's where the Vlakas wards have been placed. And they're real strong."

Eric stiffened, and so did I. "You've found them? How?" he said.

Amelia shrugged. "I could feel 'em. Witches are sensitive to that sort of thing, and I could tell there was something there as soon as I went near the maximum security section."

"How do you know they were the Vlakas wards - there are many types, aren't there?"

"A few. But the research you've had me doing on them got me interested and I tried one to see how it worked. Just a little one - the ingredients are really expensive - but it felt just like this. They all feel slightly different."

"So what does that tell us?" I asked.

Eric frowned. "It tells us that there is something down there which cannot be held by ordinary means - silver chains and so on. So it's not a vampire."

"The guards were vampires, though," I said. "I could feel the holes where their minds should be."

"I know. Weres during the day and Vampires at night; what you would expect in any maximum security area."

I shrugged. "Well, I could try to see what I can read from the Weres, but I doubt we've got much of a shot - you know I don't get a lot from them."

Eric nodded. "Why not wait until Barry arrives on Thursday, and then try together?" he said. "You know you're readings are stronger when you work together."

"Are you sure he's coming? I thought Stan might be a bit wary of bringing him, seeing as he knows Freyda wants a telepath."

"He was reluctant at first, but I pointed out that Freyda thinks she's gaining you as part of my entourage, so she won't be interested in Barry. Stan promised to bring him; he knows an extra telepath could be very useful over the next few days."

I nodded, and Amelia yawned. "Well, if there's nothing else tonight, I'm gonna head back to my matchbox; I have a cat I want to try swinging in there," she said, looking pointedly round the acres of space that made up our living-room. Then she frowned, as though noticing for the first time that the room wasn't completely pristine. Although someone had cleared up the remains of Eric's little re-decorating spree, there were still holes in the walls and there was a huge blank space over the fireplace, showing where a painting had hung.

"Eric, do you have mice in here?"

He smirked. "Not that I'm aware of. Just a few bugs."

"What, like termites? Giant woodworm?"

I snorted with laughter. "No, not that sort of bug - the electronic sort." I waved my hand at the damage. "Eric was just ... uh ... letting Freyda know his views. I'm surprised you didn't hear her screeching from the West Wing."

She looked at Eric, her gaze a mixture of incredulity and respect. "Electronic bugs, huh? So you just ripped 'em clean out of the walls?"

He nodded smugly. "It seemed the best way to get her to see my … er … point of view. I told her that if she didn't trust me, there was no point in making me her second, and she agreed. Eventually."

"What about the other rooms? Are they clear too?"

"The bugs are still there, but she promised me they would be turned off."

I was surprised he would trust her. "And you believe her?"

He nodded again. "She knows if she leaves them on, I'll destroy them too. But I've checked all the rooms." He pointed to a table, where there was a small grey box with two stubby antennas on it and a small screen with a needle. "Parker came up and swept the place for me with this - it's a high-end surveillance device detector. Really, he's been very useful to me these last few days. I'll have to reward him. See that green light?" He pointed to the side of the box. "That means there's nothing active in here. If the light goes red, it means something has been activated, so you press this button here and it emits a jamming signal."

"That's useful. Have you got another one for Amelia's room?"

He shook his head. "That won't be necessary. I've moved her up here. Her things are already in one of the spare bedrooms." He nodded to a door on the far side of the suite. I was pleased to note that it was as far as possible from our room. Although they were all soundproofed, I still liked my privacy. I didn't want Amelia getting even the faintest hint of whatever we might be doing.

She looked surprised but pleased at Eric's thoughtfulness. "Oh, thanks. That's very considerate of you. My room's really too small to do anything but sleep in it."

"I was thinking more of the fact that while you're here you can keep Sookie company, and also ward the suite so no-one can enter without permission. Then I'll know that she's safe and not left on her own during the day."

She should have known better than to think Eric gave a rat's ass about any human's comfort or convenience except mine. She blinked twice, registering Eric's fait accompli, and then said, "oh. Okay then. But I'll have to find the ingredients for the wards from somewhere."

He gestured towards a small box on the floor by the wall. "I brought them all with me from Louisiana. I think you'll find everything you need in there. Set it so that it accepts only the three of us." He picked up the bug detector and turned away towards our room, saying, "come, Sookie."

Amelia's thoughts told me she was interested to see if I was simply going to follow meekly behind my Viking. She should have known me better than that. "I'll be along soon, honey. I just want to make sure Amelia's got everything she needs."

Eric turned back and looked at us for a second, and when he realised I wasn't going to heel, he said, "don't be too long, it'll be dawn in an hour." Then he stretched in a leisurely fashion. Not because he needed to, but because he knew it made his muscles do interesting things. His shirt nearly popped its seams under the strain, but it was good quality, and survived. Kind of a shame, really... He grinned at me and went into the master bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Having suitably established my independence I picked up the carton with the warding ingredients in it and went with Amelia to inspect her room. She was more than happy to move out of her tiny accommodation, and her new space was beautiful, decorated in cream and blue, with a large bathroom.

By the time I'd helped her unpack, I was yawning my head off and was ready for bed - it had been a very long night. I could feel Eric's impatience, and he was starting to send very suggestive messages through our mind-link, but I stayed with Amelia while she set the wards on all the entrances to the suite. In a small display of spirit she also fixed a ward on her own room which would exclude Eric. I protested briefly but she said, "what? We don't want him horning in if we have girly stuff to talk about."

I couldn't argue - there were times when you didn't want an ancient vampire listening to your conversations. Then I said goodnight and joined Eric in the master bedroom - an opulent apartment with a giant four-poster bed dominating the centre of the space. It was piled with pillows and hung with green silk swags, which must have been terrible dust-traps.

But I wasn't that interested in the décor, to tell the truth. Eric was lying on the bed, waiting for me. His beautiful smile was an invitation, and his beautiful naked body was another one. I happily left a trail of my own clothes on the floor behind me and took a flying leap onto the bed. It was really high, and I tumbled into his arms as he caught me and rolled until I was underneath him.

He supported his weight on arms so strong he could have held the position for ever. Then he tossed his head so that his golden hair cascaded round us in a satin curtain. I let a handful of it flow through my fingers. His hair was so soft, but all the rest of him was so hard (and I do mean all the rest ...)

o

A while later we were lying in a tangle of sheets and I was catching my breath, truly thankful he'd checked this room for bugs. I hated the thought that any of Freyda's minions had been listening in to our activities. Not that it would have stopped me, but even so ...

Eric was lying on his side, apparently fascinated with the way my breasts rose and fell as my breathing slowed and my pulse returned to normal. His fingers drifted gently across my stomach. I used to think they were just random swirls when he did this, but he'd told me he was replicating some of the tattoo designs he'd seen on other Vikings in his youth. I'd asked him if he'd had any tattoos, and he'd said the Scandinavian Vikings didn't normally do that, but that the Rus Vikings from further East did, using wood-ash instead of ink.

Once I was fully recovered, he said, "now, dear one, we need to talk."

"What about?"

"About tomorrow night." His face and voice were equally solemn.

"What about ... oh. Right." I remembered Freyda's parting words. She'd insisted the divorce had to take place tomorrow night, first thing.

"I'm truly sorry, but there's no way round this. You know it's not what I want, yes?"

"I know." I could feel his regret and his pain through the bond, matching my own, and I reached out and laid my hand over his where it rested on my stomach. "What will it involve?"

"It's not complicated, but it's not ... pleasant. Cataliades will have prepared two deeds of dissolution, on special parchment, and we have to sign both of them in his presence."

"That doesn't sound too bad."

He sighed a little. "I'm afraid we have to sign it in blood. Each other's blood."

"Oh. That's ... horrible." And messy.

"Vampires don't think so, and the ritual was created by and for vampires. Blood makes things binding as far as we're concerned."

"Won't it just make the paper mushy?"

"That's why we use parchment. It's made from animal hide and is much stronger than paper. It doesn't absorb the blood in the same way. Cataliades will bring the ceremonial knife that we used when we were first pledged, and you will need to cut my left palm with it, and then I will need to cut yours."

Damn, that sounded painful. "And is that all?"

"Not quite. After you've signed the documents using my blood, I have to hold my hand over them and allow the blood from the wound to fall on the parchment below your signatures. Then you have to do the same."

"You'll heal me straight after, though, won't you?"

To my horror, he shook his head. "I can't. Not immediately. To make it binding, the blood has to flow until the wound closes. That's not normally a problem as we heal so quickly, but it won't be like that for you, I'm afraid. We will have to allow the cut to stop bleeding naturally. I will make it as shallow as I can, I promise."

"Okay ... and it'll just be a little nick, right? You don't need a lot of blood."

Again he shook his head. "I'm sorry, lover, the ritual specifies the cut must be made from the base of the left thumb to the base of the little finger."

"What? Why?" I was horrified at the thought of a long cut clean across my palm. Apart from hurting like a bitch, it would take forever to heal.

"It comes from the ancient days when people believed the hand and fingers represented certain things. They thought there was a vein running from the left hand straight to the heart - the vena amoris - which is why humans place a ring on the left hand when they get married. The thumb was seen as being concerned with decision-making and the little finger represented communication and sex. So the cut running from one to the other is symbolic of making a decision to sever communication and sexual relations with the other person."

"We won't though, will we? Sever our connection? Or our ... um ... sexual relations?"

He hugged me. "Never. You know it's only to appease Freyda. It has no meaning for me."

"So I can still stay with you afterwards?"

"Of course. You are my lover, my dear one, and you always will be. It's purely a legal requirement. And our bond will be as strong as ever."

"But you can't heal my hand for me?"

"I will give you my blood before Cataliades arrives, and that will speed the healing, but that's as much as I can do. As soon as he's satisfied and leaves, I'll deal with it properly, I promise. You won't suffer an instant more pain than necessary"

I sighed. "It's not going to be a good way to start the evening, is it?"

"No. But once it's over, we'll carry on as though it had never happened. I told you, it has no meaning for me." He was starting to slur his words a little, and I knew he was feeling the dawn. He hit the bedside light switch as I reached down and straightened the covers over us, and snuggled into his arms. With everything he'd just told me, I didn't expect to sleep, but it had been such a long and difficult night I barely had time to say 'G'night, Eric," before someone switched out the lights in my head and I was gone.

"Sookie. Wake up."

I could feel someone shaking my shoulder, but I was way too comfortable to want to wake up. The mattress was the softest I'd ever slept on and I grumbled and tried to turn over, but whoever was shaking me wouldn't stop. Then a voice in my head said, you must rise, lover.

That had to be Eric. The mists of sleep that curled through my brain faded enough for me to focus a little. If it was Eric then he must be awake, so …

Crap. I'd slept the entire day away. I yawned and sat up, rubbing my eyes and looking round. Eric was standing by the bed, already dressed. He was in a black silk shirt, open to just above his navel, and black pants. His hair was in a ponytail and he looked delicious, but his expression was as sombre as his outfit.

"I let you sleep as long as I could, but Cataliades will be here shortly and you need to feed before he arrives."

"Can't I have breakfast first?" I wanted to start my night with coffee, not blood.

He shook his head. "The blood works quicker on an empty stomach. I've ordered you breakfast in forty minutes - you'll need to eat well to help replace the blood you lose during the ritual."

"Don't remind me. Where's Amelia?"

"She ate a little earlier and went out to meet with some of the local witches. She'll be back soon."

"Oh, so she gets to eat while I have to starve, huh?" I was in a bad mood - I didn't want to wake up, I didn't want to be in Oklahoma, I didn't want to do this stupid divorce ritual and I didn't want to be nice to anyone, including Eric.

He sighed and sat on the bed, rolling up his cuff. "You will feel better once you've drunk from me. Come."

I shook my head. "If we're going to do this, I want you to hold me properly."

He smiled. "With pleasure. I would have offered, but in your present mood I thought you might have preferred a little distance."

My grumps evaporated in the face of his consideration. "Oh hell, I'm sorry I snarled. I should have remembered this is just as bad for you as it is for me. Hold me the way you always do?" I pushed back the covers and wriggled down the bed a bit and he positioned himself behind me, resting on the pillows piled against the headboard. Then I leaned back against his chest and his arms wrapped round me, the cool silk of his shirt sliding delightfully over my bare skin.

"Ready?" I nodded and one of his arms disappeared for a second and then came back in front of my face with two red holes dripping blood from the wrist. I leaned forward and lapped at them delicately, and he brought his arm closer so that I could snuggle back against him comfortably. Then my lips made a seal round the punctures and I started some serious suction.

I moaned a little as the thick, sweet fluid hit the back of my throat, and I heard an answering moan from Eric as his hips shifted beneath me. As I drank I felt our bond strengthening, and our mental connection growing until he gasped and pulled his wrist away. "No more ..."

"Why not?" I was disappointed - I was just getting started.

"Because if you drink any more I won't be able to resist taking you thoroughly and at great length, and Cataliades will be here soon. I'm sorry, lover, this is just too arousing for me."

I knew what he meant. His erection was hard as nails behind me and my own temperature was skyrocketing. I deliberately wriggled against him to see if I could provoke him, but he gently lifted me to the side and slid off the bed. Curse you, centuries of self-control!

"Shower and get dressed and then come join me in the living room."

"You're no fun, you know that, right?" I pretended to sulk and he smiled, rolling down his sleeve. The marks were already almost invisible.

"Yes I am. But only when it's appropriate. We will have a lot of fun later, but right now we have important business to attend to." He glanced at his Rolex. "You have ten minutes." Then he turned and exited the bedroom. Probably just as well - without his presence to distract me I focussed on getting ready, and by the time I left the bedroom Mr Cataliades was already there and waiting.

I was shocked at how he looked. Normally tall and robust, he seemed to have shrunk since I last saw him. He was slightly stooped and I was sure he'd lost weight - his suit hung on him, and as he hauled himself to his feet it looked like an effort for him.

Eric held out his hand to me, and I joined him on the couch where he sat. Mr C greeted me politely, and then seated himself again and coughed as though a little embarrassed.

"Miss Stackhouse. Sheriff Northman." He hesitated. "That is correct, is it not? You are still the Sheriff of Area Five? I've included that title in the deeds of dissolution."

Eric grimaced and said, "technically, I suppose I am. Sandy has been badgering me for my formal letter of resignation, and she'll insist on it before the wedding, but for the moment, yes, I am still the Sheriff. "

"Very well. Shall we proceed?"

"Are you ready, lover?"

I glanced at Eric and sighed. "Ready as I'll ever be, I guess." I was getting very strange feelings from him through the bond. I was reading regret, sure, but nothing like what I'd expected. I mind-spoke him while Mr C opened the case he'd brought with him and started setting things out on the coffee-table between us.

Eric, this is going to sound odd, but I'm not sure what I'm receiving from you at the moment. I thought you'd hate this as much as I do, but you don't seem too concerned. You don't want to do this, do you?

Of course not. But it's something we can't avoid, so there's no point weeping and wailing about it. I will explain my thoughts later, but my main regret is the pain it will cause you. I'm truly sorry for that.

Me too. My mental tone was dry, but I was trying to keep a lid on my emotions. Even though I hadn't wanted to be pledged to him at first, recently I'd come to accept it and now I didn't want to lose it. Not that I had any choice in the matter; it seemed that I'd been originally forced into the pledging and now we were both being forced into the divorce.

I watched Mr C lay out two large documents on the coffee table, all hand-lettered, and place an old-fashioned fountain-pen next to them. Then he carefully placed a bundle of black velvet between them and unfolded the fabric.

I held my breath as I saw the ceremonial knife he uncovered. It looked ancient and evil as it lay there, light winking coldly off the jewelled hilt. I wondered how many ceremonies it had witnessed, how much blood it had drunk. And now it was thirsty for more ...

I suppressed a shudder, but Eric knew what I was feeling, and squeezed my hand a little. Don't forget, this is only a formality. It has no significance to you or to me.

I nearly nodded, but caught myself in time and contented myself with squeezing his hand in return. Mr C looked at us both. "Do you wish to read the document before you sign it?"

I looked at Eric, and he shook his head. "We know what it means, we don't need to read the small print. Let's get on with it."

"Very well." Mr C held the knife out to me, hilt first. I wiped a suddenly sweaty palm on my skirt and gingerly took it from him. It felt light, and strangely warm, almost as though it was alive. "You know what you have to do, Miss Stackhouse?" I nodded, swallowing.

I looked at Eric and he held his left hand out to me, palm up, pale and huge and steady as a rock. Oh God, I didn't want to do this. Eric sensed my reluctance and his voice sounded comfortingly in my head. Be strong, Sookie, you can do this. Out loud he said, "the blade is very sharp, be careful you don't cut yourself."

No, because he was going to do that. I stifled my inappropriate and slightly hysterical laughter and took a firmer grip on the handle. I carefully placed the wicked point on the swelling just below the base of his thumb and hesitated for a long moment. "Do it now, Sookie," said Eric.

I looked up at him, and he nodded reassuringly. I pressed in the tiniest amount and struggled to control my nausea as his skin parted and the blood oozed out round the blade point. It wasn't like I hadn't seen my share of blood, but this was different. This was horrible. "Good. Now cut across to the little finger." There wasn't so much as a tremor in his voice. I didn't know whether it would hurt him more if I did it slowly or quickly, and in the end I decided slow and controlled was probably better - I didn't want to risk going too far or too deep.

Holding my breath so that I didn't have to inhale the sharp, coppery-sweet scent I carefully drew a line across his palm, and watched in horrified fascination as the shallow channel filled with scarlet. Eric's blood. He didn't flinch in the least, but took the knife from my shaking hand and calmly said, "now take the pen and place the point of the nib on the cut. It will draw the blood up and then you can sign both documents. Don't delay or I'll heal and we'll have to start over."

At that thought I quickly grasped the pen Mr C was holding out to me and put it at what looked like the deepest point of the groove, watching as it drew up the red fluid. Mr C showed me where to sign on both deeds, and I scrawled something. I had to go back and take more blood twice, but Eric didn't move a muscle as I did so. Then I dropped the pen on the table and sat back on the couch, breathing deeply and turning my head away. Eric had been right not to let me eat before we did this; I would infallibly have hurled had there been anything solid in my stomach just then. I felt the cushion shift slightly and knew he was leaning forward to hold his hand over the parchment, allowing the crimson drops to spatter the creamy white surface. I couldn't bring myself to watch.

After a few seconds, he said, "done. Look, dear one. It's healed."

I turned back to him, not wanting to see what lay on the coffee-table, and he was wiping his hand with his handkerchief. He held his hand out to me, and I took it and inspected it. I knew it would have healed, but I still had to see it with my own eyes. There was a faint reddish smear, but that was all. I pressed my lips to the centre of his palm and closed my eyes. "I'm so sorry, Eric. Did it hurt very much?" I whispered.

"Not really. The sharper the blade the less painful the wound, and this knife is very sharp." I didn't know if he was just trying to comfort me, but I was about to find out for myself.

Then Eric was drawing his hand out of my clasp. I thought for a minute that he was going to reach for my hand, but no, he waited patiently for me to gather my courage. He wasn't going to pressure me.

Okay, Sookie, you can do this. It's only a cut, Eric'll heal it for you as soon as he can and there won't even be a scar. Two minutes and it's all over. Eric's voice joined with my own inside my head, bolstering my courage. Be brave, dear one. It will be easier if you don't look. I could do this. I wouldn't embarrass him in front of Mr Cataliades.

I took a deep breath, turned my head away, shut my eyes, and stuck my left hand out, palm up. He didn't prolong the agony; he took my hand in a cool clasp and a second later I felt a stinging slash across the palm. I gasped and tried to yank my hand back, but Eric had anticipated my reaction and held it firmly. I felt the pen pressed to my burning flesh, then I heard the scratching as he signed his name swiftly.

My arm was gently extended over the coffee-table and he held it steady. I still didn't open my eyes, but in the silence I could hear the slow splat, splat, as drops of my blood hit the parchment. I visualised the scarlet spreading, mingling with Eric's ...

It hurts ...

His voice in my mind was reassuring, soothing my distress. You're doing so well, Sookie. It's nearly over, I promise. Breathe deeply, count to a hundred and then it'll be done. I'm so proud of you, lover. He continued murmuring words of comfort and praise as I took his advice, dragging air into my lungs, focussing on the numbers and his voice, trying to ignore the burning in my palm and the tears prickling behind my eyelids.

My mind flashed back to an old story by Rudyard Kipling, in which someone had mentioned that the hand had so many nerve-endings it was almost impossible to take an injury there and not cry. I hadn't seen any tears in Eric's eyes, and I wondered if there was something about vampire flesh that made it less sensitive. Of course, as a warrior, he had probably received so many injuries over the years that this was nothing to him. I hoped so, I didn't like the thought that he was hurting as much as I was.

Ninety-four ... ninety-five ...

"Done. Are you satisfied?" That was Eric speaking to Mr Cataliades, as he relaxed his hold on my arm and moved it back away from the table. I opened my eyes to see his fangs were out and his eyes were bright, but he was cradling my hand carefully in his own, as though it was a wounded bird.

"Yes, that will be more than adequate." The lawyer took out his own fountain-pen and signed in the space for the witness on each parchment (in ink!). I gulped at the amount of blood I saw there but Mr C sprinkled some sort of powder across it from a shaker and it dried almost instantly. He rolled both deeds up before placing them back in his briefcase along with the pen and the knife, now wrapped again in its velvet swaddling. I shuddered as I looked at it. I hoped I never saw it again as long as I lived.

Mr C looked at Eric and me very solemnly. "I am truly sorry to have had to do this," he said.

"Better you than Freyda," said Eric. "At least I know you weren't gloating."

"Hardly. I cannot recall ever witnessing a document with more regret than I have this one. I'll leave you in peace now, and take this straight to the Queen."

"Will you be at the banquet later?"

The lawyer shook his head and sighed. "No. I'm really not in the mood for festivities at the moment. I'll perform my legal duties but anything more than that ... I think I'll just retire to my rooms. I have some upcoming cases to look over."

In spite of my sore hand, I felt sorry for him, he seemed so defeated. "Mr Cataliades, are you sure there's nothing we can do to help you? You really don't look good at the moment."

"Thank you my dear, I appreciate the sentiment, but I think you have enough troubles of your own for now. I must get these documents to the Queen, she's waiting for them." He nodded to each of us, and let himself out of the suite.

The instant the door closed behind him, Eric raised my hand to his lips and ran his tongue the length of the cut. I sighed with relief at the coolness that followed, and relaxed back against the couch. He didn't stop licking until he'd removed every last hint of blood from my skin, and even then he kept nuzzling at my palm. I felt the faint scratch of his fangs, but he was very careful not to hurt me in any way.

At last he raised his head, and kissed each of my fingers before letting my hand rest in his lap. "There. It's done, and we can forget about it."

"Seriously?"

He nodded. "Yes. You didn't really think that some blood on a document would change how I felt about you, did you? Why would it? My feelings for you don't depend on legalities."

I sighed again, but this time with happiness as I felt his emotions through our bond. He was all about love and comfort at the moment, and I snuggled into his side. My hand wasn't even tender any more.

"Do you want breakfast now?"

I nodded. The nausea had passed and I was conscious of how hungry I was.

"It will be here in a few minutes. And after that we must get ready for the banquet."

"Do we have to go?" I knew I sounded whiny, but after the little scene that had just passed I felt in need of some 'us' time.

"I'm afraid I do - it's a banquet to welcome the Louisiana vampires to Oklahoma, so we all have to attend, but if you'd rather not go I won't insist. Would you rather stay in the suite? I can understand your reluctance to be in Freyda's presence right now."

I thought for a minute, then said. "I don't want to watch you having to make nice with her. When Amelia gets back, we may do a little more exploring; see if we can get any more out of that Were guard if he's on duty - he seemed quite taken with her."

He wasn't too happy about that. "I'd rather you didn't go wandering round the palace without me."

"But we did that last night and didn't have any problems. You've no idea how useful it is belonging to the 'Chosen of the Queen.'" My tone was slightly sarcastic, but he got that stubborn look about him.

"Tonight is different. Freyda will have made it widely known that I have divorced you, and people's attitude toward you may be less accommodating. My wife would be treated very differently from my pet. Amelia can go on her own if she wants, but I'd prefer you to stay in here, where I know you'll be safe."

I rolled my eyes. "What a choice - have Freyda rubbing the divorce in my face or deal with terminal boredom."

"Please, dear one. It will not be for long - I will excuse myself as soon as possible and then we will have the rest of the night together, I promise."

There was a knock on the door at that point, heralding the arrival of breakfast, which was a welcome distraction. Eric opened the door and let the staff in to set up my breakfast on a nearby table. It smelled fabulous and I seated myself eagerly as the servants left. I reached for the coffee-pot, but he was ahead of me. He lifted it out of my reach and said, "I need an answer. The banquet or the suite?"

I swear I growled a little, and his eyebrow arched. "Be reasonable, lover, you know I only want you to be safe. It's only for a few hours and when I come back I'll take you anywhere you want to go."

"I can't be reasonable without coffee!"

"Make your choice and you may have as much coffee as you wish."

"Damn you, Eric, do you ever give in?"

"Of course I do. When I've gained what I want. Now, which is it to be?"

"I'll stay in the suite - as long as you promise to mind-speak me."

"Of course - it will be my pleasure." Satisfied that he'd won his point, he poured me out a generous cup of coffee and passed the sugarbowl.

I snarled briefly and then buried my face in the cup, inhaling the aroma greedily. Jeez, it was going to be a long night...