Well, here it is; my latest shot at an EPOV. Please be kind; I've sweated blood over this. A huge thank you to Mia for her help with info on Sweden. Any errors are mine and not hers.

All reviews gratefully received. Enjoy.

Chapter 12

EPOV

"Sookie…" As I came out of the death-sleep I was aware of her name on my lips and knew that once again I had been dreaming of her. I tried to re-capture the fugitive moment, but it was gone. As often as I dreamed of her, I could never remember the details; I only knew that we were apart.

As ever, I did not rise immediately but lay still, searching the bond for her, and as ever, I found her. My great age allowed me so much control over, and sensitivity to, our blood-bond that I was able to feel her faintly across the miles that separated us. I knew that in all probability she could not sense me, and I wondered for how long she would keep the faith. Each night I feared that I would seek her in vain; that she would have grown weary of pouring her love into the void, with no answer, and yet each night she was true to her word. I did not know how much longer I would have this solace – after a month, our bond was almost exhausted. I dreaded the dark days ahead, when all contact would be severed.

I lay in the dark, my portrait of her resting above my silent heart, feeling her love flowing over me for a full fifteen minutes. It never faltered. There was never a hint of doubt or fear; only love and hope and reassurance (she was trying to reassure me!) although there were brief pauses during which I sent my undying love to her with all my strength, knowing the futility of the gesture but unable to deny the faint hope that maybe something would get through. I was determined to find a way to send her a clandestine message, in the hope that it would give her some small measure of comfort. Heaven knows she needed it.

At last she faded out, and I rose. The light-proof blinds had drawn back automatically with nightfall, and I strolled across to the windows of my suite and looked out at the Royal Palace. The view was superb, but then, it should have been. This was the penthouse of the Grand; it was the most expensive hotel in Sweden, never mind Stockholm, but that did not trouble me. Had I wished, I could have purchased the entire hotel, not just hired their best rooms.

I smiled slightly as I thought of Sookie's desperate efforts to ensure that I was provided for financially. Cataliades had told me of her care for me, and I was both amused and deeply touched that my little love had been so concerned for my welfare. Apparently she was worried that I would arrive in Sweden with nothing but the clothes I stood up in.

At times I had to remind myself of how very little she knew of vampires' lives before the Great Revelation. Her induction into our world had been very intense, and at times extremely dangerous, but it had not included any of our history. She was not aware that for centuries we had lived with the knowledge that we could be forced to flee for our lives at a second's notice. Every vampire with the means to do so had safe-houses; escape routes; secret caches of money and clothing; false identities with supporting documentation. This is how we had survived, and I still maintained the habit out of caution. The bad old days could always return. I had six houses in Sweden alone, plus innumerable other properties scattered throughout the world, which no-one in America knew about. Not even Pam. I had agents on retainer in over forty countries, who were paid to make themselves available to me whenever I summoned them.

My most recent departure from America had not been secret, but it had not been pleasant either. Fortunately for me, Anubis Airlines had been booked solidly until the early hours of the morning, and so Cataliades had plenty of time with me in my cell before my flight. He was there when I discovered a card from Sookie in my breast pocket, and he had the good manners to leave the cell while I examined it, on the pretext of retrieving my possessions, both from the Were guards and from my room on Level Five.

I was puzzled by her choice of card – it was decorated rather garishly with blue and pink butterflies – but I concluded that she must have been forced to make do with whatever was available. Inside there was a lock of her hair and the words:

Yours for ever

Sookie

I was glad there was no-one to see me as I read them. After a few minutes I wiped my eyes and removed the tress from the card, stroking it as it lay coiled in my hand, gleaming like sunlight on the water. My dearest loved the sun, and I loved to smell the sunlight on her skin. She would always remind me of sunlight. She was my sunlight. I twined the silky hair round my fingers, and it gave off a faint hint of her scent. As I waited for the lawyer to return, I tried to compose a note in response to hers. I had some expensive cream-laid notepaper in my luggage, which I had used for the messages which had accompanied the small gifts I had sent her during my absence, but when he came back and I sat with my pen in my hand ( a more tasteful example of Mont blanc's craftsmanship than Madden's!), the words dried up. I ruined nearly a dozen sheets of paper before I achieved something acceptable, and even that fell pitifully short of what I wanted to say, but it would have to do.

I gave the note to Cataliades, along with a gift for Sookie which I had purchased before my arrest, and he undertook to deliver them for me. Then I checked over my belongings before packing them all carefully. My cellphone was missing. Victor had obviously not returned it after using it to lure Sookie here. I considered drawing attention to this, but decided it would look petty and achieve nothing. A phone was easily replaced, and the contents of the one he had stolen would be valueless to him. Anything sensitive was heavily encrypted and he would have no chance of retrieving the data without an extensive knowledge of Old Norse.

The lawyer and I had talked quite freely in the cell, keeping our backs turned to the catwalk, in case anyone was watching. Foolishly, in my opinion, there was no electronic surveillance of any sort. It had apparently never been thought necessary, as guards were always present with the unfortunates who found themselves incarcerated here. This was a weakness that I was happy to exploit, and I gave him as much detailed information as possible regarding my property. Fortunately, my memory is extremely good and so was his; he did not even take notes. I had been delighted to learn that the idea for the deed of transfer had been Sookie's; What a woman! I was hugely proud of her and told him to tell her so.

When the Were guards finally came to escort me to the airport, he insisted on accompanying me. He said Sookie would expect no less of him.

Even though I was no longer under sentence of death I was still a convicted criminal, and my jailers were determined to ensure that I did not forget the fact. I was handcuffed in the car to the airport, in the airport lounge and on the plane right up until just before take-off. As they were not made of silver, they served no practical purpose except as a means to embarrass me; to force me to appear in public as a felon. I could have removed them at any point, but Felipe's men knew I would not do so while Sookie was effectively a hostage for my compliance. For myself, I was indifferent to the handcuffs; In fact, they seemed to cause more embarrassment to my fellow-passengers than to me. I observed numerous sidelong glances from solid citizens in the departure lounge, and I took a certain quiet pleasure in catching their eyes and winking at them, at which point they usually looked away hurriedly, except for one male child, who came nearer and nearer to where I sat, staring at me in apparent fascination.

I was equally fascinated. I had had very little to do with human children in recent times; I had not fed on one in decades, although their blood is sweeter than that of adults. As the little morsel gazed at me with its finger in its mouth I racked my brains, searching for a particular adjective that I had heard at some point in the past. I knew there was a word that described something edible that is like a smaller version of the full-sized object, and I searched my memory until, at last, it came to me.

Bite-sized.

That was it.

How very appropriate. The bite-sized child held out its hand, offering me a sticky confection made of boiled crystallised sugar and dyed an unpleasant shade of green. I smiled and said, "no thank you," and its parent hustled it away.

I had noticed a cellphone franchise in the concourse, and I sent Cataliades to purchase me a temporary replacement for my missing Nokia Gold-lock. He hurried away and returned with the best in their stock, which was apparently not saying very much. It was not secure, but I would not be making any sensitive calls on it, and I would crush it as soon as I obtained a new Gold-lock. Then my flight was called, I boarded, and my handcuffs were removed. Cataliades left me with assurances that he would be following my dearest to Shreveport within two days.

No sooner had the flight taken off than I plugged my new cell into the charger socket by the seat and called my agent in Stockholm, and by the time I arrived at Arlanda airport he was there to meet me with one of my limousines. Of course, it was not Eric Northman he was meeting; Eric Northman, convicted traitor, might have left Las Vegas, but it was Leif Anderssen, respected businessman and entrepreneur who was whisked through Swedish customs (a hint of glamour dealt with any minor discrepancies over the passenger-list and the complete absence of a passport) and who was then chauffeur-driven through the city to be welcomed personally by the hotel manager before being escorted to the penthouse. Leif had stayed here many times over the years and was a welcome guest.

I was distracted from my thoughts by a knock at the door. Room Service, on time as expected. I called "Come in," and the waiter entered with my breakfast on a tray. I had selected a carafe of blonde, female, A positive from the menu last night, served at 38 degrees – I liked it slightly warmer than body temperature; I found it released more of the bouquet. He was completely undisturbed by my nakedness – this was Sweden. He set the tray down on the table and left as quietly as he had come, not waiting for a tip. Staff at this level were expected to offer perfect service without the incentive of additional rewards, and they were paid accordingly. I found this convenient as there were no pockets in my current state of dress.

I came away from the window and poured myself a glass of blood. I would have preferred to feed from the living donor, but my fangs had not yet fully grown back. They were now visible, almost level with my normal teeth, but it would be at least another month before they were completely restored. In most vampires, it would take at least three months for them to regenerate, but my healing abilities were accelerated because of my age. I had been extremely careful to remain even-tempered in my meetings over the last four weeks; Vampires tend to extend their fangs involuntarily when angry and I had not wanted any of the vampires or humans I had encountered to notice my inability to do so, as this would undermine my status in the community. Of course, none of them knew what had happened in America, and I was going to keep it that way.

The bedside phone rang, and the receptionist said, "A parcel from Bolin's has arrived for you, sir. Do you wish us to sign for it, or would you care to collect it yourself?"

"Send it up please." This was the package I had been expecting for some days now. Bolin's were purveyors of jewellery to the Royal Swedish Court, and had been in business for over two hundred years, and I had entrusted to them the task of creating a suitable setting for my beloved's gift to me. On consideration, I had given them only half the lock of hair, coiling the other half and enclosing it in the locket I wore on a new gold chain. I was eager to see how they had carried out my orders, and when the parcel arrived I unwrapped it impatiently.

It was very lovely. They had created a delicate gold filigree basket on four graceful feet, cradling a crystal globe; the lock of hair, no less golden, was suspended in the exact centre of the orb as though in water, coiling gracefully on itself. I handled it carefully, inspecting it from all angles until I was satisfied that it was flawless. Then I packed it back in its velvet-lined box of white leather, ready for my journey.

This evening I was moving out of the penthouse and travelling back to the area I had known when human.

I finished my meal, showered and dressed before calling down for my Ferrari Testarossa to be gassed up and brought round. The porter came up and removed my bags while I settled the bill and just over an hour after rising I was travelling west on the E4 through the darkness.

As I drove, I reflected that it was some years since I had been back to my human home. I had not dared to visit for several hundred years after my death; initially in case I met anyone who remembered me, and later because the memories of my family and my human life were too painful, but gradually I had attained enough emotional distance to be able to return. By the time I did go back everything was changed. My settlement was no longer there; I never found out why it had vanished, but the usual pattern was for populations to migrate south to kinder lands, with fertile soil, better grazing and warmer waters. The few remaining homesteads had crumbled into ruins and even the boundary markers were gone. I had not stayed long that first time.

Since then I had gone back periodically, and as soon as there was sufficient infrastructure and bureaucracy I had purchased as much of the land as I could afford, adding more from time to time under different names and using different companies until now I owned some forty square miles of coastland and forest. I had permitted small rural settlements in the area (I had to feed somewhere), but the solitude was almost total.

In the last century I had built a small cabin on a headland looking out towards Skagerrak and the North Sea. It was very basic - a living area, a lightproof daychamber and a shower-room served by a tank on the roof which collected rainwater - but it served my needs when I visited. I came for a week or so at a time – I could not afford to leave my Area for any longer in the early days – and I spent my nights reading or walking, swimming or just sitting on the verandah enjoying downtime. Sometimes I fished from a boat which I anchored out in the bay. The peace was very necessary to me. Although I enjoyed being sheriff, there were times when I grew weary of the incessant demands for my attention, and then I came here.

I knew the spot well – I had roamed all over it when I was a boy, and there was a tiny, rocky little islet out in the bay which had been my own special place. When my father had been angry with me or my mother wished me to take care of my baby sister, I would escape there in a crazy little boat that I had built myself, and hide from everyone, spending hours sunning myself on the rocks and dreaming of the day when I would be a great warrior and would take ship with my fellow Vikings. The islet was still there, although it was covered with full-size pine trees now.

During the last month I had made arrangements through my Göteborg agent to have the facilities upgraded, as I would probably be staying longer than a week. I needed electricity, and broadband. I wanted a fridge and microwave installed, for TrueBlood. This had not been necessary on previous visits, as my meals had been fresh. I also wanted a computer, in order to keep in touch with my business interests here in Europe. The cost of laying these on in such a remote spot was astronomical, of course; the nearest road was an hour's hike away, and everything would have to be brought in by boat and winched up the cliff, but that was not my concern. I had told him what I wished, and given him a completion date and it was his job to see it done. His text advising me that the work was finished had arrived the previous night, but it had been too late to set out then. It was roughly four hundred miles to Göteborg from Stockholm, and a further eighty-five to the cabin. For this reason, I would stay in my home in Göteborg during the day and then head north tomorrow night. Thus I would arrive there with sufficient hours of darkness to settle in.

Even at just over 100mph the drive was tedious, so I put a CD on. Paul Simon suited my mood. There was one track in particular which appealed to me; Kathy's song.

My mind's distracted and diffused,

My thoughts are many miles away.
They lie with you when you're asleep

And kiss you when you start your day.

I glanced at my watch. My love would be starting her day in a couple of hours. I bent my mind to considering how best to get a message to her as I continued to drive through the night until my watch beeped, when I pulled to the side of the road and retrieved her portrait from under my shirt. I gazed at it for a few minutes in the dash light of the car, wondering what she was doing and if she was thinking of me, and then I tucked it away and drove on until the lights of Göteborg showed ahead of me and I called Hjalmar, my agent. He answered on the second ring and told me he was waiting for me at the house.

Once again, as I put the phone back on its cradle, I was tempted to send a text to Sookie, and once again I resisted the temptation. When I had acquired my new secure phone I had agonised over whether to contact her or not. She could not call me, as she did not have my new number, but if I called her I could not be sure that no-one else had access to her phone. For all I knew, Victor had seized that one too; she was only human, and very vulnerable. One text could be her death-warrant; I could not risk it. I drove on and forty minutes later I pulled into my drive to see Hjalmar at the front door. I eased myself from the car and went inside, leaving him to bring in the bags.

Once inside I inhaled briefly, testing the air for staleness or dust. I expected my homes to be kept in a state of readiness for me, and was pleased to detect only the scents of furniture polish and fresh flowers. I was pleased with Hjalmar, and told him so when he came in from garaging the Ferrari.

I sat on the white leather couch while he gave me his report on the improvements at my cabin. It was satisfactory. The weather had been kind and the seas not too rough to delay my plans, and the work had been completed on schedule. He had purchased and installed a new high-spec computer, together with a laptop in case I wished to work outside.

Next I examined his updates on my businesses in Göteborg and the surrounding area. I had spent the last month visiting my employees in and around Stockholm, and had on the whole been satisfied. There had been a few individuals who had been fired for laziness or incompetence, and I had killed one pour encourager les autres. He had stolen from me, but I had not killed him for that; I had killed him for his stupidity in getting caught. I did not employ stupid people. I had also promoted several people and given substantial bonuses to a great many more. I believed in positive incentives; There was an expression which I had heard some years earlier, which I had liked; "If you pay peanuts, you get monkeys." It was punchy and memorable and expressed my sentiments exactly. I did not pay peanuts and I did not expect to employ monkeys, but there was always a certain laxness when one was an absentee boss, and it paid to be firm when necessary.

I approved Hjalmar's reports before dismissing him for the day, and he left with a sigh of relief. I had sensed his nervousness. He operated on his own for much of the time, making decisions on my behalf, and he was naturally concerned that I would endorse them. I considered promoting him; he had been efficient, discreet and obedient; all qualities I valued.

Then I made my way upstairs to find the bed freshly made up with silk sheets and my preferred goosedown pillows, together with Paco Rabanne toiletries in the shower-room, and fresh supplies of TrueBlood Royalty Blended in the small fridge on the landing. If I had to drink synthetics, this was the least vile. Hjalmar had done very well. As I went to my rest, I decided that I would definitely promote him. Who knows, maybe he would be the right man to entrust with ensuring that my message reached Sookie. He could also assist me to get in touch with Compton. Much as it went against the grain, Bill had access to information which I needed.

The next night I headed north on the E6 as far as Udevalla, where I garaged my car in an industrial unit off the Kurödsvägen to the north-east of the town. The last leg of my journey I would fly, taking with me only the things I would immediately need. There was no road to my cabin, so Hjalmar would bring the rest of the luggage tomorrow, in his car as far as he was able to do so, and then on foot for the final stretch.

Inside the garage I swiftly transferred my selection to a rucksack and changed into all-black clothing (one was less noticeable in the sky) before locking the unit and launching myself upwards. It was the first time I had flown since I left America, and the feeling of freedom was exhilarating. The air rushed past me, whipping through my hair, which was growing back nicely. I ascended until I was high enough to avoid any buildings or power-cables, and flew in a wide circle, getting my bearings before heading west.

Initially I flew over urbanised areas, but gradually the lights fell behind me and the countryside grew steadily wilder and less inhabited; more heavily forested, with moonlight glinting on the Havstensfjord on my left. Ahead of me I could see the open sea – Skagerrak. I knew I was near my destination, and I could smell the salt in the air.

I hit the coast slightly south of my home, and turned north following the coastline with the sea on my left. It looked very beautiful in the moonlight; I could see the waves foaming against the cliffs, the frills of surf showing white where they struck the land.

At last the bay opened up before me, with the small islet showing as a dark shape against the silver water and my cabin was clearly visible on the headland. I did not go straight to it, but landed on the beach at the base of the cliff.

The steel shutters which secured and light-proofed my home could only be unfastened from within, so that no-one outside could let daylight in, accidentally or intentionally. As with all vampire homes, there was a second, secret entrance, in this case leading up from the beach. Early in the 20th century I had kidnapped a mining engineer and his entire crew in order to blast the tunnel and shape the steps through the solid rock. I had covered their disappearance from the silver mine near Uppsala where they had been working by faking a rockfall, and after they completed the work, I had returned them to the same place, glamouring them into believing that they had spent the last eight days digging their way out. The entrance to the passage was concealed behind a similar rockfall, but at vampire speed it took less than five minutes to create a gap large enough to pass through and then seal it up again afterwards. It would have become tedious if I had had to do this every time I entered or left the cabin, but it was only necessary at the start and finish of each visit, and was worth it for the enhanced security it offered. The only other person who knew of this entrance was Hjalmar. He had needed the information in order to supervise the improvements, but tomorrow I intended to glamour him into forgetfulness. Naturally, it had taken him a lot longer to move the rocks, but the exercise had probably benefitted him. He was slightly overweight.

I blocked the gap behind me, mounted the steps in the dark and operated the locking mechanism which gave admittance into the false wall next to the shower-room. I stepped out into my windowless daychamber and closed the panel behind me before going straight through to the living area. I located the new light switch and threw it with a feeling of pleasure as the overhead lights came on. For the previous century I had used gas lamps and candles. I made a quick tour of the premises, noting the improvements. The fridge was well-stocked, the microwave was the latest model from Vamptech Industries (in which I owned a 30% share) and the computer appeared to be up to spec. There was also an expensive Bang & Olufsen hi-fi which I had not asked for, but which pleased me nonetheless as it showed that Hjalmar was anticipating my needs. The technology looked a little incongruous with my antique decor. I had hung many of my trophies from my earlier life on the walls; weapons, tapestries and the like. Over the centuries I had tended to hoard things that I had enjoyed for their beauty or their associations, and I now used them to decorate my many homes. The mix was usually quite eclectic, but here I would have only relics from my youth. My broadsword hung over the fireplace, and I smiled and touched the blade for luck.

Next I unbolted the shutters and stepped out through the glass doors onto the verandah. I normally kept a rocking-chair and table there, but they were stored inside when I was not in residence. I brought them both out, and aligned them carefully before strolling to the edge of the cliff some ten yards away and looking down into the bay. I could see my island below, and was tempted to fly out there straight away, but decided against it. I had plans for its use, but they would have to wait until tomorrow night, when the rest of my luggage arrived.

I retrieved a TrueBlood from the fridge and sat in my rocking-chair, looking west. Tomorrow I would speak to Hjalmar about sending a message to Sookie. I had finally decided on a method which had been used successfully by the Dutch Resistance in World War 2. It would take some time to set up, but should be safe.

I sipped my drink slowly, watching the stars as they wheeled across the sky, waiting for the alarm on my watch to sound, thinking of her.