Characters belong to Charlaine Harris. I just moved them to Brooklyn. It's actually pretty ironic that they're living there while I'm not anymore.

~oooOOOooo~

"What did you feel when Eric kissed you?" asks Amelia.

"What did I feel…" I repeat. "You mean physically?"

"No, Sookie," Amelia shakes her head. "Not physically."

Of course she doesn't mean that; that would be too simple a question. That question I could answer. I sigh.

"I felt strange, but okay. Maybe strangely okay?" I smile awkwardly. Sometimes I wonder why I put myself through this.

~oooOOOooo~

The next night Eric came to the bar to walk me home—just like he said he would.

It had been a long night. I was still feeling anxious over my unknown fairy assailant. Although the situation struck me as incredible, I couldn't help but recognize it was a feeling of relief that flooded me—not fear—when Eric walked through the door of the bar a little before two.

After a brief inner debate—the memory of Eric hurting me was forever lurking in the recesses of my mind—I ruefully chalked my changing feelings towards him to the simple fact that—while a part of me still feared Eric—a much bigger part of me feared the unknown fairy threat more.

Sam, of course, made a face when he saw Eric; but I had neither the energy nor the inclination to placate my boss. I'd kept my promise to him the previous night, texting him once I was safely inside my apartment. I didn't owe him any more than that.

As it turned out, that text message had been the last real exchange I'd had with Sam. Since I'd gotten to the bar, aside from alerting him when we were running low on supplies, I hadn't made much of an effort to speak to Sam. In turn, he hadn't gone out of his way to talk to me. Early in the afternoon, Sam, noticing how uncharacteristically quiet I was being, asked how I was feeling. How I was feeling was a little punchy. I toyed with replying "dog-tired" just to see his reaction. I settled on "a little tired."

Still processing the revelation that Sam was a shape-shifter, I caught myself staring at my boss in the quiet moments trying to picture him as a dog. I couldn't think of a breed off the top of my head that I thought befit him so I Googled New York City's most popular dog breeds. I had no idea as to what criteria would motivate such a decision, but I figured Sam would want to blend in with the rest of the New York City pups.

Yorkshire Terrier – Given his shaggy hairdo and the loveable way he stuck his nose in my business, I could totally see Sam as a yelpy Yorkshire Terrier. Four barks.

Labrador Retriever – Sam definitely shared the earnestness Labradors were known for. Also I couldn't help but recognize he'd make a good narc. Five barks.

German Shepherd – German Shepherds were very proud, even officious; yep, I could see Sam as a German Shepherd. Five barks.

Bulldog – The way he seemed to jump around when agitated—he was very expressive with his hands—did remind me of a Bulldog. Four barks.

So Labrador Retriever or German Shepherd it was.

It was, admittedly, an insane little game to be playing. But, then again, it was an insane little situation, wasn't it?

How could Sam be a shifter?

How could Sam be a shifter and not tell me he was a shifter?

As for what the appropriate next step was, I was stymied. Was I supposed to acknowledge to Sam that I knew what he was? Maybe he already knew I knew? (Assuming shifters knew that vampires could recognize them for what they were in the same way shifters recognized vampires, maybe Sam assumed Eric had already blown the roof off the doghouse?)

With Eric's arrival, I had to curtail the energy I'd been devoting to pondering the Sam question.

Instead, I was confronted with another question: Should I confide in Eric about Breandan? For that matter, should I confide in Eric about this mysterious Niall Brigant who was my unknown great-grandfather?

Fairies.

Me.

I was part-fairy.

I still hadn't come to terms with my newly discovered lineage. Truth was I hadn't had much time to think about it. I certainly had questions. The very idea that my Gran had messed around on my granddad was unthinkable. The one person who could possibly give me the answers I needed—my cousin, Claudine—was still away on business. Even if Claudine were around, there's no telling how honest she'd be with me. Even if she were "truthful", her "truth" might be different from reality.

What if fairies were the Shemp of the supernatural creatures? The low man on the Totem Pole?

How would I ever find out if it was cool to be part-fairy?

What if it was actually lame?

Since the revelation had brought me nothing but trouble so far, I was pretty much leaning towards lame.

Frustrated, I let out a loud sigh.

"Are you ready, Sookie? I'd like to leave before the shifter turns on the lights."

I realized I'd been staring blankly at Eric. The sound of his voice jarred me from my reverie. Playing back his words in my mind, I thought them odd, but didn't feel like asking him what he meant right then. Instead I nodded and grabbed my bag from where it was stashed behind the bar.

"Yep, I'm good to go." I turned to look over at Sam. "Sam, I'm leaving!"

Sam, glaring, just nodded.

I said quick goodbyes to Arlene—her nostrils flared when she spied Eric—and Terry, the bouncer and Arlene's on-again, off-again whatever.

Finally, with Eric in tow, I steered us out the front door, past the late-night hangers on congregated in front of the bar, and together we began our trek up Third Avenue.

Realizing that I still had my hand firmly planted on Eric's elbow, I smiled self-consciously and dropped my hand.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

Eric just threw me a bemused glance. "You don't have to apologize for holding onto me, Sookie," he grinned.

"Um, well, I figure you're old enough you don't want some girl pulling you along."

Eric, very amused by that, chuckled. "This is true," he nodded. "I am old enough that I don't want some girl pulling me along." Stopping, he turned me to face him before dipping his face down to kiss me.

Cursing how good a kisser he was, I fought the instinct to return the kiss.

He broke your shoulder, I reminded myself. He's a monster, a killer.

But my words fell on deaf ears. They did nothing to diminish my desire and only succeeded in making me feel guilty—guiltier—for having that desire in the first place. Frowning, I fixed my eyes on the sidewalk as we walked, each of us lost in our thoughts.

"Why'd you do that?" I asked finally, peering sideways at him. "Why'd you kiss me?"

As I watched his profile, I caught a flicker of surprise flash across his face.

"Because I wanted to…" he answered, considering.

"You always do what you want?"

"I usually don't have a problem with it," he replied dryly, smirking at me.

Shaking my head, I turned my attention forward, focusing on the cracks in the sidewalk's concrete slabs. We fell into a not uncomfortable silence.

"So…" I sensed Eric's eyes on me as he spoke and peered over to meet his gaze. "You are part fairy. Does the shifter know?"

It was my turn to smirk. No, the shifter did not know he had a part-fairy barmaid. I toyed with never telling Sam. It would be just payback for him keeping his little "secret" from me.

"No, he doesn't know." I bit my lip. "Nobody knows. Only the Fairy relations."

"Your brother—?"

I shook my head. "Nope."

"Is he Fae?"

According to Claudine, Jason was as much "Fae" as I was, but for some reason, the associated traits hadn't manifested themselves as strongly in him as they had in me. This fact would protect Jason in the end as Breandan and his forces were not aware of him and even if they were aware of him, he apparently wasn't worth their effort. Me, on the other hand, was a different story. I was special.

Hooray?

Unspecial Jason lacked fairy characteristics and had blood that didn't belie his nature. He wasn't in danger.

Me, however…

Again. Lame.

"He's my full-brother if that's what you're asking," I replied cannily. "It's my turn for a question," I said and watched as Eric nodded in acquiescence. "Have you always been a vampire?"

"No," he shook his head. "I was human for a brief time, long ago."

"What did you do back then?"

Silently, Eric pondered my question. "I was, as Americans refer to today, a Viking."

A Viking? What the hell? I felt my eyes grow huge. Drawings from sophomore year history textbooks flashed before my eyes. Eric had told me he was a thousand years old but somehow the number had been abstract to me, ungrounded. Him being a Viking, however, was something I could relate to. That was a long time ago. I said the first thing that popped into my head.

"Here I was thinking that you were old enough to not want me pulling you around, and it turns out you're like the oldest!"

Eric laughed out loud at this. Glancing at me, he seemed less amused by what I said and more amused by how I said it.

"I assure you I'm not the oldest. And I find pleasurable pursuits to keep me young." A smile played at his lips before he became all business.

"My turn for a question. Who knows your secret?"

"About my quirk?"

He stared at me, eyebrow raised. "How many secrets do you have?"

"Not a whole lot, but more than one."

"Obviously," he snorted. "I am, now, however, referring to your quirk as you call it."

Mulling over whether it was more important to keep it secret who knew about my telepathy or to build good faith with Eric, I decided on the latter.

"My brother knows. Sam knows. My friend Tara knows and my friend Arlene knows something is different about me, but I think she thinks I'm psychic. The only person I ever talked to about it was my Gran."

"Have you ever used it for your personal advantage?"

"Damn! What a good question," I remarked, grinning. "Too bad it's my turn." I was starting to have fun with this game. I was looking forward to getting an answer to my unanswered question from the night before.

"Fine. Your turn." Eric treated me to a crooked smile.

"You never told me how you knew where to find me last night?" There it was.

His smiled cracked. Slowly Eric nodded, like he was weighing his response. I just watched him, waiting, a knot of tension slowly building in my chest. His response was taking longer than I thought it would.

"Well?" I prodded. New Yorkers aren't known for their patience.

"Our blood..."

"Whose? Yours and mine?"

"Yes and no," Eric said, his eyes steadily focused on mine. "Our blood—vampires' blood. You drank from me the first night we met. The fact that my blood is commingled with yours allows me to sense your location."

My jaw dropped. "No shit!"

"No shit," he replied, his voice serious.

"Okay… So what it is…is like vamp GPS."

Silently I chewed on that as we walked. Initially intrigued, it didn't take long for the novelty to wear off.

"You can track me now. You'll always know where I am." There was plaintive quality to my voice. I didn't bother to disguise it.

"Yes," he nodded, cutting his eyes sideways to look at me.

I cleared my throat.

Cure-all Robitussin.

Emotional magic 8-ball.

GPS tracker.

What else did this miracle elixir do?

I wanted to know.

I deserved to know.

I stopped walking. Eric followed my lead.

"Eric, is there anything else? Is there anything else your blood does?" Looking into his eyes, I could tell there was more. Don't ask me how I knew; I just did. "Eric?"

"Yes," he nodded.

Silently I waited him out. He was obviously hesitant to say anything more. I decided to try another route.

"You know how I'm feeling now?"

"You're angry and frightened," he shrugged. "But I didn't need the blood. I could tell by the look on your face and the tone of your voice."

Unwilling to be placated, I just shook my head. I had experienced such a rollercoaster of emotions—that he could settle on angry and frightened seemed like an abridged version—like Cliff notes.

"I told you the truth. I could have lied. Can't you give me credit for that?"

He was right; he could've lied about any part of it. He could've lied about everything.

But he hadn't.

Why the hell didn't he just lie to me? It wasn't like I'd know any better.

"Why didn't you lie?"

"I didn't want to." Eric seemed uncomfortable. He resumed walking and I followed, widening my strides to keep up.

I put my hand on his wrist, stopping him. "Why?"

His eyes on mine, Eric shrugged. "It is a preference. I decided I would prefer to not lie to you."

"Will you always tell me the truth?"

"When I can."

"When you can't?"

"I'll keep my words to a minimum." Eric resumed walking; my hand fell away from his arm as I followed suit.

Incredible. For some unfathomable reason, Eric wanted to be honest with me. It was making me feel a little guilty for my one whopper of a secret I'd been holding close to my chest.

I wondered if he, too, was a mind reader as he managed to zero in on my thoughts.

"Sookie, why were you so filled with fear last night?"

It was my turn to hesitate. "I have family problems."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Eric turn to look at me.

"You have no family but your brother." He reconsidered. "You have no human family but your brother. Your problem is with the Fae."

I didn't say anything but I'm sure the truth was spelled out on my face.

"So tell me, Sookie," Eric said. "What is the problem?"

Swallowing hard, I told myself it was time. "There's kind of a family feud going on. My great-grandfather has a relative who's angry at him." I sighed. "It was that relative who had someone push me onto the subway tracks."

Shocked, Eric stopped walking to gape at me; I returned his look. That I was being targeted by a fairy assassin was clearly not the revelation Eric had been expecting.

I could easily see how he'd managed to stay alive so long with his next question.

"Sookie," he said gently, his eyes never wavering from my own, "who is your great-grandfather?"

I know I wasn't glamoured but in that instant, I did feel hypnotized. My nerves jangled by the truths I was forced to reveal, my breaths echoed loudly in the relative stillness of the quiet city street. My words sounded distant and foreign. "His name is Niall Brigant."

A flicker of recognition crossed Eric's face. Silently he ruminated over what I'd told him until he finally spoke.

"You are related to Niall…"

"Yes."

"I have known Niall for hundreds of years."

My eyes shot open at that. I hadn't even considered fairies aged differently. Claudine appeared to be about thirty. Now, I wasn't sure.

Eric and I continued to walk, in silence as I puzzled over the true age—the true foreignness—of my fairy relations and he pondered my family tree reveal.

"You are fearful this Brigant feud will result in your death."

"My cousin Claudine said Breandan—he's the one warring with my great-grandfather—is especially angry about half-breeds. Those of us who are part-human." I sighed again. "I'm a target."

"Breandan is the one who pushed you?"

I shook my head. "He has…" What was the appropriate term to describe Breandan's "go-to killers"? "He has minions to do his bidding. It was someone named Lochlan—"

Eric stopped walking and his head jerked at my utterance of Lochlan's name; mutely he stared at me. Nervous at his reponse, I fell momentarily silent before forcing myself to speak again.

"Do you know Lochlan, Eric?"

Nodding, he answered, "Yes, Lochlan is well-known. He and his mate, Neave, are known for enjoying torture."

My eyes wide, I gulped and turned to face forward as we once again resumed our pace.

"This is why you are afraid." It wasn't a question.

"Yes." My answer wasn't really necessary.

"You fear them more than you fear me." Again, not a question.

"Yes." Again, unnecessary.

"You are right in this." Without looking at me, Eric took my hand in his. Unbidden, my fingers tightened around his.

"I know," I whispered.

~oooOOOooo~

"How were you so certain about trusting Eric, Sookie?" asks Amelia.

My eyes fill with tears as I look up at her and shrug. I wasn't.

"It's not like I had much of a choice, Amelia."

Silently, Amelia nods. Usually she starts to get it by this point.

AN: Thanks for reading. Chapter title is the alternative title of the 13th track on Audioslave's first album. I think it really captures the mood of the chapter.

Thanks to everyone who stopped by the Fangreaders forum on August 27. I recall those pre-Irene days with fondness. Thank you for sticking with me. I'm home for a few days and I'm going to concentrate on writing. Forgive me for not replying to reviews. I'll go back and reply once Hurricane season is done. Promise.