Eira was up hours before sundown; sleep evaded her. With everything she had found out the night before, she couldn't close her eyes without having a nightmare flash across the back of her eyelids. She had begun "the bleeds" since she was refusing to rest, but after drinking a few packets of donated blood that were always kept around the nest, she controlled the blood dripping down from her ears and nose. Nevertheless, she stuffed her ears with cotton balls, and kept a napkin in her pocket just in case her nose started to bleed again.

She spent her time getting ready, picking out an outfit meticulously, enjoying the calmness of an empty nest, for she had ordered everyone to clear out the night before, not wanting anyone near her should she turn foul. Leisurely she walked throughout the quiet house, humming to herself as she idly inspected the decorations, letting her mind wander aimlessly.

Eira could not wait until all of this shit was over. She was overdue on vacation time. Maybe she'd convince Godric of retiring to their Parisian penthouse for a time—after she chewed his ass out for doing things behind her back, that is.

Settling down in front of the large television in the sitting room, Eira turned on the television and set the channel for the local news. Clear skies and warm nights awaited Dallas, and a warning went out to mothers to not leave their children unattended on the playgrounds because of a recent string of kidnappings and rapes. Eira shook her head at that—she did not like rapists, or anyone who hurt children.

A smirk made its way onto Eira's lips as she remembered what she had done to all the men who had touched Romina. Oh, that had been a glorious night. Romina had learned to kill, and Eira had helped her child get revenge.

Eira's phone suddenly went off, and she turned off the television and quickly darted to her room. Her phone lay on the bedside table, an unknown number flashing across the screen. Eira was hesitant as she picked up her phone; was Sarah Newlin calling her? Was the bitch going to taunt her again? Well, there was only one way to find out…

"'Ello?" asked Eira, taking a seat on the edge of her bed.

"Is this Eira Northman?" asked a very familiar voice with a southern accent.

"This is she," said Eira, quirking up an eyebrow in question once she figured out who was calling her. "How did you get my number, Bill Compton?"

"Eric," he said simply.

"Right, well, any special reason as to why you're calling me?" questioned Eira.

"There's been a problem at the airport," he said, and it was only then that Eira realized that the sun had gone down already. Her room did not have windows, with it being underground and all, and so she had to rely on her clocks to know when sundown hit. The small clock on her bedside table was telling her that it was 6pm.

Bill and Sookie were supposed to arrive before sundown.

"Problem?" asked Eira skeptically, walking out of her room and into the sitting room. "I was made to understand that your jet would be arriving before sundown—is that the problem? That you're late?"

"No. We had a problem with getting another travel-coffin—Sookie thought it best to bring along my progeny," admitted Bill.

"Your human is pushing her luck," mumbled Eira, noticing that Isabel and Stan had just recently arrived. With a wave of her hand, she motioned for them to go into her office, before saying, "Well then, that's not the problem, I imagine—so what is?"

"The driver that was sent to retrieve us—"

"I didn't arrange for a driver to pick you lot up," said Eira hesitantly.

"You didn't?" asked Bill, a tone of surprise in his voice.

"No," hissed Eira, her features turning dark, "accommodations in a hotel were all I made arrangements for. I figured you were more than capable of escorting Sookie to the appointed hotel yourself."

"Well, there was a driver that said he was sent by you, and he attempted to abduct Sookie."

Eira's eyes narrowed.

In a clipped voice, Eira said, "The less people knew of your involvement, the more protected Sookie was—I figured it was the least I could do after attacking her. Did you inform anyone of your little trip down here—because I certainly didn't."

"No," said Bill.

"Where are you right now?" asked Eira, walking into her office.

"Still at the airport."

"I'll send one of my associates personally to escort you and your party to the hotel," said Eira, giving Isabel a look, "now, you have the kidnapper in your custody, I presume? What have you found out?"

"His name is Leon. He was hired by the Fellowship of the Sun—that is all I know right now. I have my progeny working on him as we speak."

"Right," said Eira, eyes narrowed into murderous slits. "I'll be busy for a while, if you need to speak to me and can't reach me, give Eric a call and let him know of what's going on—he'll relay the message. For now, I've gotta go. I'll see you later."

With that, Eira hung up, nearly breaking her phone as she slammed it down on her desk. A frustrated sigh escaped her lips, and she looked at both Isabel and Stan, making them nearly flinch with her dark stare.

"It appears we have a fallen angel in the garrison," said Eira softly, a sadistic glint in her eyes. "Isabel, pick up Bill Compton and co. from the airport and take them over to Hotel Carmilla. Stan, I want a log of everyone—human or vampire—whose set foot in this house since last night. Make it detailed, with background checks, CCTV footage—the whole nine yards. We've got a mouse to trap."

A little smirk settled on Stan's lips as he tipped his hat at Eira and then darted out of the room. Oh, he was going to have a field day with this, Eira was sure. This kind of shit was fun for him, but it was a headache for Eira—if she could get a headache, anyway.

"So, we have a traitor," said Isabel thoughtfully.

"We do," sighed Eira, taking a seat on her chair. Resting her elbows on the edge of her desk, she covered her face with her hands, her voice muffled as she said, "Did you tell anyone about this? About it being the Fellowship of the Sun?"

"No. Only Stan and I know what exactly is going on, the others only know the basics," said Isabel.

"The nest is probably bugged—correction: my office is probably bugged," mumbled Eira, letting her hands slide down her face. With a tired sigh, she asked, "What did we do to deserve such treatment?"

"Simply existing is enough reason for them," said Isabel sadly, before darting out of the room, leaving Eira with her thoughts.

"Simply existing shouldn't warrant a death wish," said Eira softly, blood trickling down her nose. "Fuck, I need to sleep…"

AN: Shout out to all my readers who are Supernatural fans!
Did you see what I did there? Heehee...