A/N: Thanks to everybody who reviewed. Please keep telling me what you like or what doesn't work for you, the feedback is great either way. And to my new 'guest': thank you for giving the story a shot, glad you're enjoying it.

14: Revelations

Fangtasia was closed on Mondays. The parking lot out front was deserted when I pulled up just after eight.

As I locked my car, I took in the extended well-lit parking area and the classy new sign. Flowing lettering in brushed steel gleamed bloodily under a hooded red strip light. Impressive. I'd heard the place was doing well.

I shivered with the drop in temperature outside the car, hugging my coat closed. I'd taken a few brisk steps towards the entrance when a figure dropped silently down from the roof to land cat-like in front of me. Startled, I yelped.

Thalia straightened up, her eyes cold, waiting for me to speak. She'd accessorised her ninja chic outfit by adding a sword tonight.

I squared my shoulders and straightened too, ignoring the cold as my coat fell open. At least I was taller, even if she could take my head off in a heartbeat – and she could hear exactly how fast mine was hammering after her scare tactic.

"I'm here to see the Sheriff," I said confidently.

"Bag," she said curtly, thrusting out her hand.

"What? Why–"

"Weapons search." She was terse.

I fumed silently for a minute. This was completely unnecessary, I wouldn't hurt Pam. She was pissed Sam had gotten one over her on Saturday… Rescinding their invitations had been plain mean and I was mad at Sam for that too, but Thalia clearly didn't get the whole 'two wrongs don't make it right' concept.

I swallowed my indignation, deciding that I, at least, wasn't going to act like a petty child.

"Fine," I said. She looked through my purse and patted me down thoroughly. Once she was satisfied she blurred to the door. She swished a key card through a slot and stabbed a code into a keypad. Security had definitely improved.

She pushed the smoked glass door open and held out my purse when I reached her.

"Thank you," I said automatically as I took it and walked in.

"Sheriff's office is out back," she said as the door closed behind me with a quiet click.

Guess the dangerous human could be trusted on her own.

I looked round curiously. This was a waiting area with plush red bench seats along the walls, potted plants, and subdued lighting. A podium, with a rope barrier tidied out of the way next to it, guarded an open archway leading to the main room. Guess it got real busy some nights. I could see the lights were on inside through the archway.

I stepped into the main room, and whistled quietly, turning to take it all in. It had been tastefully refurbished in a modern style: plenty of glass and brushed steel combined with red, black and grey decor. The whole place had been extended into the next building over to double the floor area.

In front of me, where the old space had been, there was now a large area of low steel and glass tables, each nestled in its own circle of comfortable red leather couches and chairs, the groupings interspersed with tall potted plants to give some sense of privacy. On the far left, where the old bar had been, there was a coat check area and two dark archways signed 'ladies' and 'gentlemen'. The back corner held a merchandising display complete with counter and register.

A large dance area took up the new space to my right. The dance floor was tiled in black and grey. Easy to clean. Scattered around it were small red lacquered tables, high ones the right height to stand at – no chairs. Past that, to the far right, there was a stage, set up for bands by the look of it. Behind the dance floor a long gleaming steel bar ran over half the length of the back wall. A stack of trays sat on the end of the bar nearest the seating area. They still had waitress service.

Definitely an exclusive nightclub vibe though.

Amongst the discrete no biting, no smoking signs, I picked out posters for a burlesque night, ladies only nights, and half-price cocktail hours. Wow. The tone of the place had really changed. Pam's influence, I reckoned.

As I skirted the dance floor, I glanced at the liquor behind the bar with the practised eye of a bar manager. Yep, more cocktails and spirits, fewer brands of beer. Upmarket customers. Expensive stock too: business must be booming.

I made for the door near the end of the bar marked 'Private, Staff Only.'

It led to a short, dimly-lit corridor. Two doors, one each side, were helpfully labelled staff room, and employee dressing room. At the end of the corridor I had a choice. To the right, a longer unlit corridor ran past several unmarked doors. I'd seen a door behind the bar that would lead back there, stock rooms maybe.

To the left, light split down a shorter corridor. I headed that way and found it opened into an empty waiting area with a reception desk and an external door: the back entrance. The only other door was marked with a large painted-on silver star. I smiled. So Pam.

Two lights, one red, one green, were mounted over the door: those ones that indicate whether to enter or not, for important people too busy to be disturbed. My high school principal had them.

Both lights were off and the door was shut. I couldn't hear anything but my own quiet footsteps as I approached.

Well, I figured it was okay. I knocked and breezed through the door.

My cheerful greeting of "Surprise, Pam," died in my throat.

Eric was sprawled on a couch, an arm behind his head, hair loose, and a messy stack of papers on the coffee table next to him. He looked up sharply from the page in his hand as my feet took me all the way into the room before I could stop myself. His eyes widened in surprise as the door clunked softly closed behind me.

"Sookie, what are you–"

I gasped. He was wearing jeans and a long sleeved black t-shirt, his shoes kicked off, lying haphazardly on the floor at the end of the couch.

Bare feet. Two bare feet.

Without thinking I stepped over to him, dropped my purse on the table and reached out to touch his left foot in wonder, reassuring myself that it was real. The toes were still missing, and he flinched a little as I brushed against the sealed-over wounds, but his foot was solid and cool. Real.

He frowned at me in confusion, dropping his paper on the table. He opened his mouth to speak but I hushed him.

I stepped alongside him, looking at his hands. He stayed quiet, letting me pick up first one and then the other, touching them gently and turning them over, inspecting them minutely. One was almost whole, the other missing the fingertips from the nail beds. But both were so much better than the injuries I'd felt under those gloves.

I blinked back sudden, hot tears.

Keeping hold of his hand I tugged, and he sat up as I backed out of the narrow gap between the couch and the table. I tugged again and he followed my wordless demand, gracefully rising to his feet. I let go of his hand, and put my hands on his hips to turn him to face away from me. He didn't resist. I tugged up the back of his shirt. The awful whip marks were better, but still visible. I ran my fingertips over them gently, as if to soothe them.

I straightened his shirt, and he turned slowly back to face me, the weight of his years heavy in his eyes. He dropped his fangs for a second, and then retracted them, understanding perfectly that I needed to see them.

I was overwhelmed by a rush of relief, as the burden I hadn't acknowledged I was carrying suddenly lifted. I closed the short distance between us. Snaking my arms around his waist and pulling him fiercely to me, I buried my face in his chest and let the tears I'd held back during our silent exchange fall freely.

He stiffened and held himself rigid while I sniffed and spluttered against him. Just as I began to realise I had made him uncomfortable, I felt him relax by degrees until he slowly lifted his arms and wrapped them loosely around me. He gently lowered his face into my shoulder and nuzzled my loose hair, inhaling quietly.

Then we relaxed completely into the embrace and his arms tightened, holding me close.

Time stopped as we took comfort from each other.

"I hate stocktaking, those imbeciles managed to–" Pam's voice cut off abruptly.

We let go of each other instantly. Eric stepped back, and I scooped my purse off the table and fumbled for a tissue. I wiped my face with my back to Pam and covered my embarrassment by stuttered out, "H-how long until…?" I waved vaguely at his foot.

"A week, ten days at most," Eric said quietly.

I blew my nose noisily, mumbling from behind the tissue, "Good, good. That's great."

He cleared his papers from the coffee table. "Sit. Please." He gestured at the couch, and moved to the pale oak desk to shuffle the messy pile with his back to me.

I stayed where I was for a second, taking in the rest of the office. Pale cream walls, pale wood floors, a brown and blue area rug, and a chocolate brown couch. Tidy shelves of neatly labelled folders and business textbooks, and a couple of pot plants. There were two plain doors behind the desk.

The room was light, airy, modern, and strangely non-threatening. Maybe Pam had reassuring human visitors in mind when she decorated.

I took off my coat and sat, finally looking at Pam. She was dressed in a deep pink silk blouse and dark brown slacks tonight. She was frowning at Eric's back as she asked me absently, "How did you get in here?"

"Thalia let me in."

"Of course she did," she muttered turning to me. "I take it whatever you want to talk to me about can't wait until tomorrow." She looked at me expectantly, eyebrow raised.

I collected myself, thinking ruefully that I'd completely failed to catch her off guard. I'd forgotten she had decades on me. She wasn't like Tara and Amelia. I could spring a question on them to get the truth, verbally or mentally. Not that I did that for any secrets more earth-shattering than what they really thought of my latest outfit these days.

I got straight to the point. "I need to know about those guards Niall mentioned."

Her eyebrow twitched. "I see. And the shifter didn't tell you?" In my peripheral vision, Eric stilled.

"No. We had … other things to talk about." She hesitated and I added, "Please Pam. I need to know what's going on."

She moved to sit next to me, and searched my face. "Are you sure you want to know, my friend?"

"Yes! Of course I do. It's my life; I have a right to know. In fact let's start with why y'all felt I should be kept in the dark. And then how often I need these guards and who the hell they are."

Pam sat back and considered. "Alright. I will tell you. You have been guarded for the last three years. We thought the threat from Freyda and de Castro would be minimal for the first year–"

"But they gave me their protection!"

She shrugged. "Do you trust their word enough to bet your life on it Sookie?" I closed my mouth. No, I guessed not.

"Now try not to interrupt. For that first year Karin, and occasionally Bill or Bubba, covered the nights, while Long Tooth provided a wolf to watch Bon Temps and Merlotte's in the day. It was low key, primarily surveillance. I could also locate you by blood, and de Castro was aware of that. But I knew you needed to have a better system in place by the end of Karin's time here. I began recruiting and training a team of guards. I was going to tell you before Karin left, but then Bill told me that you were to wed the shifter."

I shifted uncomfortably at her tone. At the time, I'd excused not telling her I was getting married, let alone inviting her, by telling myself she was doing important Sheriff things and wouldn't care about my humdrum human life. And all along she'd been working to protect me. Ingratitude thy name is Sookie.

"I met with your fiancé to explain the situation. He was… concerned that it would distress you to know you needed guards. He impressed upon me quite insistently that you deserved a quiet life." She paused, and looked down, flicking a speck of dust from her trousers as she carried on. "You had largely withdrawn from the supernatural world, and I accepted that that was what you wanted. Eventually, I agreed it was best to keep it from you."

"Oh." I didn't know how I felt about that. I would be angry later that Sam had wanted me kept in the dark, but I didn't like that word 'withdrawn'.

I couldn't deny that I'd cut off contact with Pam, justifying it the same way I had with Bill; our lives were on different paths. And I'd lost touch with Alcide. Oh, we'd spoken a few times by phone, but even that had petered out naturally sometime before I got married. I'd bumped into him in Shreveport once or twice since. The last time he'd been with his pretty wife, Cynthia, and we'd made small talk for a few minutes like casual acquaintances.

I'd thought I was carving out a new, safer, happier life for myself, not withdrawing from anything. Perhaps I had though. And who could blame me, I was a fragile human and in a few short years all that my entanglement in the supe world had brought me was trouble and strife. It was a dangerous world, one I did not belong in.

Was it wise to be involving myself with vampires again? Maybe Sam had a point: I hadn't been injured in years and within days of reaching out to Pam I'd almost died. Even with guards I'd been kidnapped.

And yet, here I was again, the only one in the room with a heartbeat. Twice in the last few days I'd run impulsively to Pam for help, when I had plenty of alternatives. Jumping Jehoshaphat, I'd just hugged Eric, and Lord knows what ideas that would give him. Maybe I needed to step back and consider what I was getting into.

I took a deep breath, and searched for a gracious way to back out of this. "Well, I guess y'all meant well. But I really don't see you needed to go to all that trouble for me, Pam. My life has been completely peaceful for the last three years."

She stilled.

I narrowed my eyes at her, saying in a warning tone, "Pam, what is it? Tell me."

"There have been some… issues. Are you certain you want to know?"

I nodded, and Eric startled me by chipping in. "I also would like to hear about these issues." I glanced over to find he was facing us now, leaning back on the desk, arms crossed.

"Very well. During Karin's time here there was only one overt attack, in April. Local humans from Ruston, Fellowship members. They heard you were marrying a shifter. They attempted to plant a crude nail bomb at Merlotte's one Saturday night, and were quite surprised to run into Karin and Bill in the parking lot." She grinned wolfishly.

I went cold. A bomb. Merlotte's. My friends. Sam's business. What it would have done to Bon Temps. "Oh my God. Sam must have been so angry."

"Ah. The shifter is unaware of that incident."

I glared. "You didn't tell him? It's his bar."

She shrugged. "We were guarding you, not him. You were not married at that point."

"What effing difference does that make?"

"It makes a difference." She sighed. "I may have understated how badly the shifter reacted when I first spoke to him and he learnt that it wasn't just Karin guarding you. He accused me of spying on you, trying to influence you, even preparing to kidnap you. He was refusing my calls at the time of that attack. The bomb was crude, the humans were idiots, and they were acting alone. No need to tell him, agitate him further."

That sounded plausible… Sam had become a little possessive once we'd got engaged. Touchy about me talking to Bill, or Alcide. I'd forgotten that. He'd relaxed once we were married. Well, until things went downhill and Quinn showed up.

"And the other incidents?" Eric prompted her.

"There have been four other acts of aggression, not counting the kidnap four days ago."

"Four!" So much for my quiet life. "When? Who? What the hell has been going on?"

Pam grimly ticked then off on her fingers as she spoke. "One a few months after Karin left. A professional hitman: a human sniper, expensive, untraceable. We think Freyda or de Castro were feeling things out, looking for chinks in our security.

"Two last year. In July, Cataliades got wind that some of Breandan's faction, left behind when the portals closed, had disappeared from Europe heading this way. Diantha staked out your house for a fortnight, waiting for them. Thalia was most annoyed when Diantha caught the first one, scouting during the day. Well… until we tracked down the rest of them." She grinned fangily, and licked her lips.

"In November last year, a group of Weres headed by a cousin of the bitch who stirred up the Pack War came looking for revenge, against you and Alcide both. Four of them were caught preparing to snatch you.

"The fourth and most serious attempt was this year, the Fellowship again, or more accurately the Chosen. It was a much better organised group, ex-military, targeting you and Sam as a known mixed couple. We were lucky they came at night."

"When?" I asked bleakly, seeing news pictures of child-sized body bags outside a burnt-out house, the Were family killed in Houston the previous spring.

"February."

I gasped. I was pregnant. Just barely, but the thought of what could have happened… I was in a cold sweat. It was unthinkable. "And Sam knows about all that?"

She nodded. How could Sam have kept that from me while we were trying for a child?

"Anything else?" Eric asked.

"The dayshift intervened on one other occasion this spring, but no, those are the only attacks."

One other occasion… Easter. The miscarriage. Almost bleeding out. Sam's sheepish face at the hospital… He hadn't forgotten something and come back. I was being watched and someone had called him back.

Something jangled at the back of my mind.

Someone watching me at Merlotte's… Diantha… a fortnight… attacks…

"Wait, wait a minute. All these attacks… you knew when they were coming? You knew to put guards in place?"

Pam frowned. "They're always in place; I thought I made that clear."

"But… where? They're not outside the house, or Merlotte's. I would have sensed them."

Although, I had to admit I'd gotten complacent about checking the woods at night and the people round me in the day. Why was that? Oh yeah: I'd known I was safe, things were quiet, I thought sarcastically. Five, no, six attacks counting Lattesta, over three years. Some quiet life that was. Sheesh.

Pam got up and retrieved something from her desk. When she retook her seat she slipped it over her head. It was a necklace with a gold pendant, a bit showy for Pam's taste. I'd seen something similar, but I couldn't place where…

Pam twisted the pendant somehow, and it clicked. She looked at me expectantly.

"What… Holy Cow!"

Her mind, the void I detected from all vampires, had winked out like a popped bubble. I moved my head from side to side, probing for it. Nothing. I couldn't detect her at all. "What… Where did you get that? What the hell is it?"

"From a witch, a powerful one. I needed a way to satisfy your husband's demand for secrecy. I got the idea from Stan Davis; we were discussing how the Fellowship shielded their thoughts from you and Barry in Rhodes. Once I realised it was possible, I found a trustworthy witch powerful enough, and paid her to develop these. All your guards have one."

I tried again. My extra sense slipped right past her, couldn't lock on to her. It reminded me of the magic outside Club Dead, or around Hallow's hideout. It was deflecting my telepathy.

It was beyond unsettling to see Pam in front of me, and not feel her mental presence. Let alone imagine a team of undetectable guards in my woods…

"Hold on. What happens if someone else gets hold of one? I'd be a sitting duck. I can't believe you'd be so careless–"

"They are activated with blood, which ties them to that individual. They won't work for anyone else." Oh. Pam had thought of that.

I still wasn't comfortable with it. I was pushing my mind at her every few seconds, the way my tongue would be drawn to explore a chipped tooth over and over. It was throwing me off. "Turn it off, please."

She shrugged, and turned part of it. With the click, her void bubbled into my awareness again. I relaxed.

I rubbed my forehead, smoothing the tension away. I could hardly believe all this had been going on around me and I hadn't suspected a thing. If I hadn't been kidnapped, if I had gone with Sam to Wright last week, I'd still be in the dark.

Wait one hot minute. Wright.

"Pam, what about when I travel? When we go to Sam's family in Texas?"

She shrugged. "The guards follow. It's no trouble keeping track of you in Louisiana. Normally going into another state would be… problematic, but Texas has been very co-operative."

"Okay." This was all a little overwhelming. I began marshalling my questions, wishing I'd written a list. "Who guards me at night now? Is Karin still here?"

"Karin returned to her own life. She left after the first year as agreed." Pam added softly to Eric, "She was a great help, especially this last six months."

I didn't understand that remark. "Um, did she come back?"

Pam shook her head, "No, she didn't return to Louisiana to guard you." She looked to Eric.

"Karin was ended in Oklahoma. In battle," he said, his expression fiercely proud.

"Oh. Oh. Sorry to hear–"

He stiffened, and said coldly, "Do not cheapen her loss with platitudes, Sookie. You did not know her."

I flushed. "I knew enough. Blonde, good in a fight. Just your type."

Pam interrupted quietly, "Did you speak to her in the year she gave to guard you?"

"I… No, I didn't see her much." That wasn't my fault. She stayed in the woods, what was I supposed to do? Chase a vampire down to make small talk? Bake her cookies? Besides, the few conversations we did have at first, she made it clear she was interested in Bill and vice versa. More interaction would have given her an opportunity to rub my nose in that: that two of my exes were happier with the original prototype.

Bitterness I couldn't hold back spilt into my voice as I added, "I guess she wasn't real happy being commanded to drop everything."

Eric looked offended. Pam stiffened and said, "She volunteered."

I snorted. "Yeah, right. Doesn't mean she didn't resent guarding a stupid breather."

"And you know this because of the many extensive conversations you had." Pam's tone was deceptively light. "Eric is right; you know nothing of Karin, or our relationships." She paused and gestured at the wall behind the desk, changing the subject. "Do you like the painting?"

I did actually. It was a garden at night, a cottage in the distance, tumbling plants sprawled over a winding path, and flowers of many sorts glowing in moonlight. Stunningly beautiful, it was a striking scene. Eric looked at it like it was an old friend.

Before I could answer Pam added, "Karin painted it for me." Oh. Great. Sookie Mark One was way more talented than I'd ever be.

Eric stepped over to it. He ran a finger along the frame. "Better than a photograph," he said softly. "Do you remember Pam?"

"Of course, everything you taught me there."

He chuckled. "Even if you do ignore it." They both admired the painting in silence.

Great. Vampires reminiscing. They'd be onto the good old days when you could slaughter whole families in a minute.

I grimaced. That sounded childishly spiteful even inside my own head. I pretended I didn't feel excluded by the stark reminder that their relationship was decades old and deeper than any I'd ever have or could hope to understand. How I had ever believed I could relate to them…

I gave them another minute, before returning matter-of-factly to my original question. "So, who guards me at night?"

Pam tore herself away from her memories. "Thalia normally. She agreed to it if I released her from her duties here. She prefers the quiet and the chance of a fight. One or two vampires assist her."

"Bubba?" I asked hopefully.

"Ah. He is in Las Vegas." She looked uncomfortable.

"Did Felipe force him to go? Is he okay?" It would remind him of his human life, and that did not go so well.

"No, no. He wanted to go. He's fine. He seems to like it, they look after him well. He sings occasionally." She smiled a little, and I wondered if she'd heard him recently.

"Okay." I hoped the damaged vampire legend was really alright. "So who are the day guards?"

"A mixture of wolves from Long Tooth and panthers from Hotshot. Shifts of two normally, more if there is a threat. Sometimes Diantha."

"And is that part of…" I dredged up the right phrase, "my Friend of the Pack status?"

"No. That status is why Alcide sent a wolf for the first year, and permitted his pack members to take the work after that. Calvin does the same because of his tie to your brother, and some lingering personal affection he has for you."

"Okay." With Calvin's reaction to Sam this afternoon in mind, I said, "And I guess they have some obligation to Sam too. Sam has links to the packs. He lets a few of them run on our land."

Pam raised an eyebrow, and waited. I repeated what I'd just said to myself and groaned. Of course, the guards would be all over the woods. "That was just to cover for the guards?" Pam nodded.

"So where does Sam fit into all this? Does he organise the guards? Liaise with the Packmasters?" I rushed out the questions.

Pam said drily, "I run the team. Thalia is the onsite lead at night. In the day one of the older weres is in charge, or Diantha when she's here."

I frowned. "But… the weres? They don't like working for vampires. Sam got them to cooperate?"

She snorted. "It's amazing how their distaste for our kind vanishes with the rustle of money. Sam gave his permission for the guards to be on the land, that's all."

Sam said I was his responsibility. Surely he was doing something…

"Oh, Sam had Amelia put up the wards." See? Good husband. Even if he kept hiding things.

Pam pursed her lips and looked away. Oh no. I had a very bad feeling.

"Pam, just tell me the truth." I gritted out.

"I wanted the wards improving. Amelia is very powerful, but… well, the witch she married was hardly going to jump for joy if I hired the coven. Sam suggested it should seem like his idea."

I blinked. So Pam organised the wards. The vampires might work for her for free, but the weres… Two or more. Every day. That had to be expensive, even for Pam. Perhaps de Castro was… no, that didn't make any sense. Shoot, I couldn't owe her like that. I'd been a shitty friend and it wasn't her job to look out for me.

"You're paying for all this? Pam, I have money, I should be funding this. You shouldn't have to."

She frowned, and looked to Eric. I looked between them. "Spit it out, Pam."

She waited for Eric's slight nod, and cleared her throat. "It's not exactly my money, although it is in my name."

"Explain," I snapped, sounding eerily like Eric. I didn't care – my head was spinning with details and I just wanted a straight answer.

"There's a trust fund." She was checking her nails. Eric was leaning nonchalantly on the desk, inspecting the rug.

There was something neither of them wanted to tell me.

A trust fund: like the one that paid my fairy money. Niall had looked out for me before– the money, the FBI pay-off, the protection decrees – it made sense he would set up something like this too. It almost made me feel warm and fuzzy towards the old goat. Almost, if he hadn't got me caught up in the fairy war, and let Claude escape.

"Niall set it up because he was leaving, right? The guards, the fund and getting all those vampire Kings and Queens to protect me."

Pam was instantly alert. "How do you know about the protection decrees?"

"Mr C showed me them today." I said smugly. Finally, one thing in all this that I wasn't in the dark about.

"Niall," they both said simultaneously. Pam carried on, talking to Eric like I wasn't here. "Well, the decrees are on record, and the witch had a point about that. I take it Niall knows her?"

Okay, the conversation was over my head again and I was pissed. "Excuse me. Right here. What witch?"

"The one in Tyler. Daisy whatever."

"Oh. Niall knows her? That's how he heard about me being kidnapped?" She nodded. Shit. How had Daisy known I was related to Niall? Did every supe in the South know who I was? Maybe there was a super-secret fairy message board full of gossip about me. I groaned, and shook my head free of those questions. Stick to the guards, Sookie.

"So Niall set this all up, left you to manage the trust fund–"

"I didn't say that."

"Pam. Will. You. Just. Tell. Me." I ground out. Again she waited for Eric's say so, and I could have screamed.

"The fund draws from area businesses held in my name. Fangtasia, a dry cleaning business, a video rental store."

I glared. I could tell she was still delaying, edging around some big secret.

Eric finally stepped in. "I set it up. Set up the fund. Transferred the businesses to Pam. The decrees were my idea, as insurance against Freyda and Felipe. Cataliades traded on the favours you earned at Rhodes to arrange them. You have your own courage to thank for them."

I blinked. What? Eric did all that… "Why would you do that? And how did you get that past Freyda?"

He shrugged. "Pam bought the businesses from me with money from a hidden account Freyda didn't know about. The fund is in Pam's name and Freyda couldn't touch it."

That bitch would have tried though, she almost didn't let him put up my bail money.

And that sparked an unpleasant association… I noticed grimly that he hadn't answered my first question.

"Why Eric? Why the hell did you do all that?" I spat out, getting to my feet and stepping towards him.

He closed off his expression, smoothed his face blank. "You know why."

My hands on my hips, it felt good to yell at him, release some frustration. "No, no I don't! Unless it's for the same reason you gave Sam that bail money. So you could control my life. Stop me from being happy. That's what you wanted wasn't it? When you tried to stop Sam from courting me."

That had always stuck in my craw. He didn't move a muscle and the lack of a reaction enraged me. I ran with it. Highhanded bastard thought he could dictate my life after he'd walked out of it. "I should have listened to Quinn. You tried to keep everyone away from me, even after you left. You wanted me all alone. I bet everything Sam suspected is true. Shit, I bet you were using Karin to spy on me."

I rounded on Pam. "How often do you report to him? Do you tell him what I have for dinner, what I'm wearing?"

Pam recoiled like I'd slapped her.

"Enough!" Eric roared.

I froze; my back to him. He waited until the ringing echoes died away, and spoke in a voice hot with supressed rage. "Did you forget I was banned from contact with my children? In three years Pam and I spoke only once. You did not rate more than a few seconds of that conversation. I left believing Pam had a friend in you, no matter what had happened between us. She remains a truer friend than you know, despite the way you treated her. She kept you alive for the last three years." He snorted. "That is a thankless task. Apologise. Now."

I flushed with shame as he spoke, hunching my shoulders against the sting of his words. He was right; I'd turned my back on her. And I'd lashed out at her in a fit of temper.

I swallowed. "I'm sorry Pam. That was uncalled for."

She nodded, keeping her eyes on the coffee table. I wished she would look up. She said quietly, "I would never betray your confidence like that Sookie."

"No, of course you wouldn't." I supressed the urge to add: unless your maker commanded it. "I'm sorry I let my temper get the best of me."

"Accepted." I could still feel Eric's glower on my back as I stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, wondering whether I'd outstayed my welcome.

After a minute or so, the tension began to dissipate and Pam gestured for me to re-join her on the couch.

"Now that you know about the guards, how involved do you want to be?"

I rubbed my forehead, and slumped against the cushions. "I don't know."

How would that work now Eric was back in town?

I winced. I'd promised myself I'd make it up to Pam, but I'd been thinking in terms of late night shopping or socialising, not sitting in her office discussing guards. This felt way too much like being sucked back into that dangerous world. I could see a string of faces telling me it was lunacy to get involved again and I was better off out of it: Tara, Catfish, Bud, Hoyt, Amelia…

Sam. Oh Lord, he'd never accept me meeting up with them to chat about guards.

I could understand why he'd been upset about Eric providing protection for me. That should be Sam's job, but he'd obviously swallowed his pride for me, put my safety first. Besides, I only needed protecting because of the damn vampires in the first place.

I was grateful Pam was waiting while I thought things through. Vampires were good on patience.

I sighed. My money was on Freyda hiring that hitman barely a year after agreeing to protect me. She was younger, more impatient than Felipe.

It was a shock to hear there were still fae after me though. And Weres from the Pack Wars, twoeys seemed to hold onto grudges. And we'd been targeted because Sam was a known shifter. Twice.

I realised with a sinking feeling that only one attack was directly down to vampires.

Although I only came to Lattesta's attention because of Rhodes, so perhaps that counted against them too. I had a sudden memory of Claudine warning me against going. I'd been such a stubborn fool…

Then again, Mr C thought the decrees were sufficient to put most vampires off. Maybe I would have gotten unwelcome attention from more vamps without them.

And then Eric was shouldering the cost of sheltering me from all-comers. I didn't know what to make of that.

He was relaxed against the desk again, looking at Karin's painting. Serious.

I was going round in circles. I rubbed my face, realising I was getting nowhere fast. "Can I think it over and get back to you Pam?"

"Of course. We'll keep the status quo for now."

I stifled a yawn, and then heard… whistling from the corridor. Huh? Eric was already frowning at the door, and Pam tensed next to me.

"Are you expecting someone?" I asked as the door opened.

Well. She certainly had presence.

A tall, lithe redhead breezed into the room like she owned it. She was dressed for the beach: flip flops, a gorgeous green silk cover-up over a patterned bikini, and a large sunhat in her hand. I could smell suntan oil and the sea thanks to my V-enhanced nose. She was stuffing sunglasses into a large turquoise beach bag as she smiled at Eric.

"How's the patient tonight?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Why are you here?"

"Oh, didn't Ludwig call? Check-up. All part of the service."

"Is that so?" Eric inhaled obviously. "A beach and a night club. Spices. Mexico. Cancun?"

She laughed. "Yes, I love it there. Beautiful beaches, beautiful people." I felt every inch a small town girl who'd never been out of the country.

She dropped her hat and bag on the desk and stepped right into Eric's personal space. He didn't react. My eyes widened. She seemed awful… familiar with him. She didn't hesitate to look over his hands, prodding the injuries. His jaw tensed, but he allowed it. She glanced down at his foot and gave a satisfied nod.

"You ate well tonight?"

"Yes. Pam arranged donors."

"How much, if that's not a rude question?"

"About five pints."

She whistled. "That's more than normal right?" He nodded.

Huh. She didn't seem to know much about vampires. It wasn't like Ludwig to send someone ill-prepared. And it was unprofessional to arrive straight from enjoying herself in a club. I didn't trust her.

She twirled a finger and he looked at her. "C'mon Northman I don't have all night." He scowled and turned around. She pulled up his shirt and manoeuvred the desk lamp. The whip scars glittered in its harsh light.

"Hmmm. The silver was cursed?" He grunted. "I have something that might help. You can't be too careful with curses."

As she scrabbled around in her bag, I checked her out mentally and got a shock.

Her mind was different than anything I'd met. It was slippery, I couldn't get a fix on it, and it seemed to vibrate even though she was still. What the heck was she?

"Ah, here it is." She pulled out a tube. "Now, usual caveat, this might not work on you but it's worth a shot. Guess you won't care if it's cold, huh?"

She proceeded to squirt out a little and rubbed it into his scars. "It should feel…"

"Warm. Yes, I feel that. This hasn't been used on vampire?" He turned back around tugging his shirt down.

"Er, not until just now." Pam growled, and the stranger raised her hands apologetically as she turned to us. "Hey, it's just herbs. It's perfectly safe."

Pam snorted. "It better be, fairy."

Fairy? She wasn't what they thought she was. At least, her mind wasn't like the mind of any fairy I'd met.

She chuckled at Pam. "Your tongue is working better tonight."

Pam grinned wickedly, "I can give you a demonstration."

"Oh, but you already have someone to practise on." She winked at me, and I frowned back.

Pam grinned even more broadly. "Oh, she's not my type."

"She isn't?" She suddenly turned to look at Eric. "Oh. Oh, this is… Oh." She bumped him with her shoulder. "Well, introduce us."

Eric looked like he'd rather eat dirt. In clipped tones he said, "Sookie, this is the healer Niall sent."

She rolled her eyes and stepped forward holding out her hand. "Hi, I'm Rory, Rory Kingfisher. Sorry to barge in. I'm a little excited about my first proper vampire patient." She gave me a dazzling smile that reminded me of Claudine.

"Hi, Sookie St– Sookie Merlotte", I took her hand hoping for a better read, but all I got was a brief uncomfortable resistance as our hands met, like pushing two magnets together the wrong way. What the hell was she?

She dropped my hand quickly and said, "Oh, you're a Brigant." Her eyes widened, and she turned back to Eric. "I think I can guess why Niall owed you."

Eric pursed his lips. Definitely not happy.

She turned back to me with a grin that slowly faded. "Did you know she is joined to another?" She seemed to be talking to Eric, but she hadn't taken her eyes off me.

I stiffened. "I'm married, if that's what you mean."

She shook her head, and swept forward to sit gracefully on the coffee table in front of me, clasping my wrists before I could object.

She was uncomfortably close. I could count her eyelashes as she stared at my chest. Now, granted, plenty of men and the occasional woman were mesmerised by the girls, but this was something else. She was focused on something I couldn't see, her eyes glazing over.

"What is that? I've never seen … strong …very strong, deep roots, buried in you." That did not sound good. Was it Eric's blood? Before I could ask, she continued.

"Fae. Old magic, tying his fate to yours. A join." She let go of one of my wrists and traced something invisible in the air between us. "It is pulling on him. He yearns for you, craves you. And you fight it, struggle against it."

She dropped my hand suddenly and sucked in a huge breath as if she'd just come up for air. She stood abruptly and moved away from me, as if I was contagious. She looked shaken. "Who did this to you?"

Eric moved a little behind her. She turned to him. "You know. Was this Brigant's doing?"

He shook his head, and said tensely, "She used a Cluviel Dor. Could it be that?"

She exclaimed in a foreign tongue and turned back to me with suspicion in her eyes. "Where did you get such a rarity child?"

I bristled. "I'm not a child. I inherited it. It was a gift to my grandmother from my grandfather."

"And you used it?"

"I… My husband was injured. Seriously. I used it on him."

"Just to heal him?"

"Yeah. To bring him back."

"He died?"

"Yes. Only for a few seconds, but yes."

"You altered his fate. Returned his life." She frowned thoughtfully. "For the fae, saving a life means that life is yours. It forges a tie between the two, a debt owed and responsibility taken in return. But this is more than such a bond of honour. It is a magical tie, one not to be made lightly."

She added slowly, "Love tokens such as the one you spent are rare and powerful. They can have unexpected, unpredictable effects. I don't understand how, or why, but it has joined you."

Her little parlour act wasn't gonna frighten me. I shrugged. "He's my husband. We are kinda meant to be joined. Big deal."

"But you are resisting it."

I snorted. "So you say. Why would I resist being 'joined' to my husband?"

"Because you aren't in love with him."

My face flushed and I shot to my feet. "That's enough. I don't know who you think you are," I shot a significant look to Pam, "or even what the hell you are, but I love my husband and he loves me. So drop the theatrics."

She shrugged. "If you wish, but you know I'm right."

I glared at her, ignoring the little whispers about the fights, the proposal, that damn kiss. "Like hell I do. I don't believe a word of it. How much did you pay her for this little performance, Eric?"

She suddenly lost her cool and snapped, "Leave him out of this. No-one buys me."

"Yeah? Just hang around long enough in that outfit."

She barked out a laugh. "Girl, don't bite off more than you can chew."

She stepped quickly to me and grabbed my hand. An image blossomed forcefully behind my eyes, burning into my memory and filling my vision as the room faded.

I saw myself, perfectly normal, sitting on the couch moments ago, but overlaid with a completely bizarre second image, like a double exposure.

A pale golden and orange glow enveloped my torso and head. Dark, ugly veins radiated from an angry tear over my chest, where a knot of sinuous roots burrowed into me like pale worms, writhing and grasping at my insides. A thick ghostly cord grew out from the roots, stretched taut and fading away into the distance.

Close up the cord was made of many pale strands, plaited and woven together. Dim pulses of warm red light travelled along them towards me. Instinctively I knew that was Sam's love.

A faint light pulsed in the other direction, from me to Sam. It wasn't red. It was amber.

A/N: Um yeah. Sorry for the weekend cliffhanger.