Chapter Thirteen

"She lives beyond the grace of God, a wanderer in the outer darkness. She is 'vampyr', 'nosferatu'. These creatures do not die like the bee after the first sting, but instead grow strong and become immortal once infected by another nosferatu. So, my friends, we fight not one beast but legions that go on age after age, feeding on the blood of the living."

"An autopsy?"

"No, no, not really. I just want to cut off her head and take out her heart."

Bram Stokers Dracula played in the background, reminding Eric why he didn't like the portrayal that Stoker had foretold. The term Nosferatu was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

He leaned forward in the cushioned chair set back in the corner of the room, staring at Sookie as she slept peacefully. He sat there silently, his fingers idly moving against each other between his knees. She would have called him a stalker if she had known how intently he was watching her. He was a stalker. Her stalker. He'd stalked her even when she'd pledged herself to Bill for an idiotic form of protection.

He didn't understand her.

He wanted nothing but to protect her. He wanted to show her exactly why she should be with him. He could have had her already. She'd thrown herself at him previously with a lust that had matched his own and he'd turned her down.

Eric smirked at the reminder. This wasn't like him. Pam would have laughed and mocked him for his mind set. Him, tell Sookie no? He wouldn't have believed it himself, had he not done so.

He was looking forward to when he could bury his face between her pale, creamy thighs and drink from her. He wanted her own her knees, his hands fisted in her hair as she sucked him. He wanted her body wrapped around his, squeezing him tight as she came around him until he couldn't hold back his own release. He wanted her nails to leave bloody trails down his back until his body automatically healed itself.

He was going to have all that and more.

His cock hardened at the thought and he reached a hand down and absently stroked himself. He could still taste her, even if the memory paled in comparison to the moment when he'd last tasted her blood. She'd lost their bet and had to pay up.

Finally, he had her again. The knowledge was unbearably sweet.

Sookie was a sweet, lying little fairy. She was constantly lying to him. Her scent was cloyingly thick with lies, confusion and lust. And fear. He knew Sookie wasn't scared of him. She defied him enough to put that theory to waste.

It was on the tip of his tongue to say what was troubling her, but his mind wasn't connecting with his words. What was he missing? What wasn't he understanding? He could read people. But Sookie, he couldn't even begin to read through the hazardous affair that was her emotions.

He was almost disappointed that she'd given in so easily to his wanting command to sleep.

"I never will understand you, Sookie." Eric murmured, halting her wayward and suddenly too dangerous thoughts. He hooked a finger in the knot around her waist and tugged her even closer, until she was touching him. He lifted his hand and trailed a finger down her collarbone through the parted cotton. He proved just how much he could read into her emotions. "You deny what you want, and yet take what you don't. What do you want, lover?"

Eric remembered staring up at her as she straddled him, her thighs clenching over his. That was one of the many ways that he wanted her. Straddling him, beneath him, covering his face with her delectable body. He remembered his exact thoughts in that moment. He wanted her to want him. He wanted her to submit and if he could have glamoured her into that truth, into admitting that she wanted him, too, he would have.

"Sweet Jesus." Sookie whispered.

That was when it all started, wasn't it?

He couldn't even begin to describe the feeling of contentment, knowing that she was well on her way to being his. Sookie may not know it, but he was talking about more than sex. He wanted it all.

He leaned forward and pressed his fingers together against his chin. She was doing something she had never done before. She was all too easily submitting to him, boosting the egotistical predator that he was. He'd been born with power. He craved it, submissiveness from others. Submissiveness, giving, wanting, selfish acts that was all for his own benefit.

His eyes narrowed.

Sookie shifted on the bed then and his eyes followed her movements into wakefulness. She sat up suddenly, the covers twisting around her thighs. Her eyes widened in realization. Realization of what, he dare ask mockingly? The answer was a delectable one.

"Dammit, Eric. You can't keep doing that!" Sookie blurted out before she could stop the words.

"Doing what, Sookie?" Eric asked all too smoothly, the predator gleaming in his eyes. He didn't move from his spot, just stayed leaning forward in the chair.

The vision of the perfect predator with its prey in its sights.

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