"And if you or any of your people ever come near Miss Ravenscroft, Miss Stackhouse, or myself ever again, all of the remaining vampires of Area Five will not rest until your head is on a plate. Have I made myself clear, Agent Rosted?"
I could only guess what the FBI agent on the other side of that conversation was thinking. I could hear stammering and I'd bet a twenty he'd just wet himself. Eric was not a person you wanted to piss off. Pam stood behind Malia and the chair to which she was tied, a long, slender knife poised against Malia's neck. Malia did not seem to know the meaning of fear, she almost looked proud of herself. Nonchalantly and almost bored of her threatening position, Pam wasn't exactly thrilled about that phone call.
"I have been preparing to go to this conference for weeks! You're going to tell me that because this little cretin showed up," she gave Malia's neck a little nick with the knife to prove her point, "that I have to cancel my trip to London and take my stuff home and unpack everything so soon?" She inspected the nails of her free hand to avoid actually looking at Eric.
He looked out the window as if he were expecting another Malia, but spoke very frankly to Pam. "You were tracked. You were followed. You brought this thing to my home, and you're complaining about your shopping trip. I have to say, Pam, I'm very disappointed in you right now." He turned and refused to meet her gaze, and walked slowly up the stairs. I noticed that he didn't shut the door behind him, and I thought that I would join him in a minute. But now that our ties to the FBI were officially severed, there was something I wanted to do first. Pam caught my drift as I took a step towards Malia, tied into her chair with a series of intricate knots last seen used on a Viking ship, and she dropped the knife.
"Leave some for me. This could be fun!" Pam smiled menacingly, and I stood squarely in front of Malia, tied to my kitchen chair with a sick smile on her face. She wanted this. She wanted me to hit her. To stab her with that knife that Pam left on the floor, and it called out to me. It craved flesh like Malia craved pain, and at that instant, I knew the worst thing I could do to Malia was pay no attention to her at all. Pam hovered in the other room, waiting for me to strike.
"Help me take her to the woodshed. We'll just leave her there. I don't want anything more with her tonight." Pam looked devastated at this, but silently agreed to help me. With Pam's help, I was able to take Malia, still tied to her chair, and carefully avoiding her snapping jaws, took her outside to my grandfather's ancient woodshed, unlocked the doors and threw her inside as the falling chair disturbed a year-old layer of dust. We relocked the doors behind us, and left her there. Perhaps she'd be there in the morning. Perhaps not. I really didn't care about Malia anymore.
I was void of all emotion by the time I reached the staircase. I knew that Eric was upstairs, and whether he wanted to see me or not, he was about to. I walked as slow as humanly possible up the stairs, my hand guiding me up the rail, asking me if I really wanted to go in that room. I did. And I didn't. Eric was lying in bed on his side, looking at the wall on the opposite side of the door. The sight of him curled up make him look so defenseless and sad. I shut the door behind me and crawled into the bed next to him. I put my hand on his shoulder, but he didn't turn towards me. He didn't even move.
"Eric," I said softly, moving my hand down his arm, reaching for his hand. "What's wrong?"
"I failed you." He said softly, his back still turned. "I've failed to protect you twice."
I didn't know what to say to this. Eric had taken the ultimate blow to the ego. "I didn't see it that way."
He finally turned over to face me. His lower lashes had trapped small beads of red. I pretended not to see the tears he had shed over what he saw as his failure to protect me. "How did you see it?" He pulled me close to him and nuzzled his face in my hair.
"I saw it as a fearless negotiation, and then really fast thinking. And I've never seen knots like you did on that chair." I felt him laugh softly, while his fingers wrapped themselves into my curls. I heard him breathe in my scent, and I felt his spirits raise as my point of view sunk in. I felt something other than his spirits rise too, and while I wanted to so badly, I knew that Pam would require an explanation eventually, and she wasn't afraid to barge in on something intimate to get it. He began fiddling with the bow on my dress, and I felt his huge hands roaming across my breasts. His mouth found mine and I had to tear myself away to ask what would become of our trip to London.
"Lover, by the time you wake up, we'll be there." I wasn't sure how this was going to work exactly, but the bulge in his jeans beckoned to be freed, and I was more than willing to help with that task. Eric, sensing my desire for some camouflage music, reached for the remote on his nightstand and hit the big red button, and we were nearly blasted away by the fury of Carmina Burana's O Fortuna, the sotto vocce softness caressing his body as my hands worked to free him from his shirt and the rest of his jeans. The music picked up speed and I found myself on top of Eric, his thumbs climbing up my thighs and his finger gracefully entered me and I let out a moan as my fangs made their way into our love life. I arched my back and leaned away from him, letting his fingers climb deeper inside me, making soft spirals that sent shivers up and down my spine and I craved him more than I had ever craved him before. One final moan from this angle, and I felt him throw me down to the bed where he had been only a second before, with one hand on my stomach, holding me down as if I intended to go somewhere, and I gasped as his tongue took the place that his fingers had just occupied. A thousand years well spent, I thought, and I saw one blue eye look up at me from between my legs. The eyebrow above it waggled in the way that he used to say, watch me. He bit hard into my thigh and drank quickly before I was able to heal myself and finally, after my first mind-blowing orgasm, entered me softly. We spent a few sweet and tender moments with Eric on top of me, his arms in a solid push-up position that stopped his entire weight from falling onto me and our hips rocked back and forth slowly. His lips made their usual trail down my neck, and his fangs reappeared as his mouth latched on to my nipple. I felt a quick pang as this sharpness of his fang collided with such a sensitive area, but he then pulled me on to him, sitting on him and riding him as the undulations grew faster and deeper with this new and improved position. I was coming too close and too quickly, and I threw him onto the bed behind him, and continued to ride him, changing the angles of our pelvises, slowing myself down as I rocked backwards and forwards harder on him. His hand began to climb up my leg again and his fingers dug in to the pink spot that had been his bite marks only a couple minutes before. I let out a soft Oh! and worked faster with a flick in my moving hips. I could feel him growing closer, and with one final thrust from him, I felt his own orgasm, splendid and leviathan, coinciding with mine. I let myself collapse on top of him and as we lay with our feet on our pillows and our hair hanging off the foot of the bed, he pulled me close to him and wrapped his fingers in my curls. "Thank you, lover." He said softly in my ear.
I must have sounded confused. "You're welcome?" I answered, sort-of, and he clasped his hand around mine.
"I promise you will be safe from now. I will do nothing that would put you in harm's way ever again." I wanted to speak up and say that I was fine and that he had saved me more times than I could count, but he gently pressed his finger to my lips, asking to finish. "I love you, Sookie. I want you to marry me in London."
This was a bit of a shock to me, and I couldn't answer. "Eric? Did I hear you right?" This was something I'd dreamed he'd say time and time again. But to actually hear it was honestly a little terrifying.
"We'll talk about it tomorrow, my love. Dawn is coming. Sleep now." I heard Pam open the door and climb into the hidey-hole in Octavia's old room, and I felt my eyelids grow heavy. As they started to close I felt Eric move me into the bed and under the sheets, and then crawl in beside me.