|| 20. No Salvation ||
"Oh, hell." Pam smugly mused, standing next me in the reflection.
I spun around, adjusting the red-and-black racy bra, the slight rips in it making me look like a skank. I didn't like wearing this outfit. I wasn't used to be sexy, I was used to wearing athletic tank tops and athletic shorts. Again, Pam was making me into her personal mannequin and Barbie doll. The matching panties had very small, light rips on the pelvis. My old tattoo of the lyrics of Bad Things was obvious on my right ribcage. I'd never showed this much skin in public, and I was anxious. Tonight was the night I was going to dance at Fangtasia, and Yvetta was dancing, too. We were the only female dancers tonight, and Eric would be there, center stage.
After the Magister's death, I was reprimanded by Eric to keep my mouth shut, and not to speak a word of it. Nan Flanagan would be sniffing around soon, and nothing should be able to lead to the death of the Magister in Fangtasia's basement. I agreed with Eric and made a promise to him I wouldn't speak a word of it. I was a little scarred from the whole ordeal with being chained up and tortured with silver, but with some rare comfort from Eric, I was mentally recovering. I was sleeping ever day with him, curled up in a ball in his grasp. Some scarring still stayed on my ribcage and arm, but Eric insisted it would fade away with time. Yvetta and I had been vying for Eric's attention, and he knew how much I hated her. He didn't want to fire her because she brought in clubbers and fangbangers. If he didn't get rid of her, I would. She would pay for fucking my maker, for making our relationship the past few weeks rocky and black-hearted. Tonight was my revenge, tonight was the night Yvetta would suffer the consequences.
I raked my fingers through my lanky, straw-colored blond hair nervously, fidgeting with my black, smoky eyeshadow and charcoal eyepencil.
Pam rolled her eyes and sighed in her Southern accent, "Evie, you look sexy as hell. Now, get out there before Yvetta does." I yelped, Pam taking my arm and dragging me to the dancer's section, into a door that went backstage of the nightclub. Pam winked at me and left me alone with Yvetta, which was not a bright idea. Yvetta stood there, standing sultry up against the backstage pole, her arms crossed across her busty chest. Her brown hair was tangly yet she still looked pretty, her lipstick a bit smudged and her eyeshadow a bright pink. She wore undergarments, like myself, but they were bright green. We were utter opposites. She looked trashy, but she could still pull it off. "Ehvie." She mused with her Estonian accent, looking me up and down like I was a parasite. "Yvettah." I replied, mimicking her thick accent. She shot me a nasty glare.
"You're just a jealous whore," Yvetta snapped, puckering her lips at her compact mirror, "Eric fucked me and not youh."
"Shut you're fucking mouth, slut." I retorted, "You'll be done after tonight. I swear."
Instinct ordered me to jump on her and rip her to shreds, tear out her hair and punch her, even stake her. I remained calm, despite me thinking about the two of them going at it in the basement. I bit my lip, not realizing my fangs were extracted. I didn't care about the pain of my fangs, I just kept glaring at her. She winked at me maliciously and she said, "Idiotic human whore." I was about to leap on her when a sultry remix of Led Zeppelin's When the Levee Breaks blared in the club, and she stepped out from behind backstage and grinned. I watched from a point were no one would see me, watching Yvetta's trade. She twisted fast and ran her hands around, the men howling for her. I rolled my eyes and my blood immediately boiled when I saw Eric sitting there, watching. Yvetta was right, I was a jealous whore. A jealous whore that belonged to Eric Northman. Yvetta eyed him and danced around the pole for him. I could feel the anger and jealousy running through me.
The last notes played and Yvetta's performance was done. She hardly touched Eric, merely rubbing her leg against his briefly. I blocked out her flirting with Eric and straightened up, running my fingers across my bra to adjust it. I raked my hand in my hair once more, thankful that it had cooperated tonight, the streaked-blond hair tumbling on my shoulders. The loudness of the club made me anxious, knowing the fangbangers, vampires, humans and the rest of the guests were pumped and ready for anything. Yvetta stepped backstage and gave me a nasty smile, "Top that, bitch." Her accent made her sound really awkward when she swore, so I almost laughed, but the first notes of my stripping song came on. And I smiled when I realized what song it was. Teeth.
With newfound confidence, I waltzed out of backstage and into the vampire bar I'd grown so comfortable with. For a moment I saw myself as a human what felt so long ago, fighting with Eric about Lafayette's freedom, Eric's hair long. I saw me and Sookie rolling our eyes at Bill and Eric, Pam smirking. I saw all these memories of months ago, and I instantly knew that this was my new life.
don't be scared, i've done this before. show me your teeth...
I waltzed out to the pole, taking my right hand to it.
don't want no money, that shit's ugly. just want your sex, take a bite of my bad girl meat
take a bite my me, show me your teeth. let me see your mean...
I walked around the pole, swinging around. I gripped my leg around it and slid down, throwing my head back, my hair whipping back. Wolf whistles and howls from men were heard, and I grinned, letting my fangs snap out.
got no direction, i need direction. just got my vamp...
I caught a look at Eric, who's lips were contorted into a smug smile as he watched me. It charged my veins and I felt liberated. I swung and twisted the way the other dancers did, using the pole as leverage. I put my back up against the pole and slid down slowly, feeling the heat in the crowd and the yelling and wolf whistles.
take a bite of my bad girl meat. take a bite of me boy, show me your teeth. the truth is sexy...
I raked my hands through my hair and swung around the pole, arousing the crowd. My fangs were extended and I felt adreneline pumping through my veins like blood. I swung around like I was a professional, the crowd excited and the music thumping through Fangtasia like it had a heartbeat. The gimmed red and black lights were intense on the performance. I snuck a look at Eric, who sat in his famous chair behind me. He looked really amused.
tell me something that'll save me, I need a man who makes me alright. just tell me when it's alright. tell me something that'll change me, i'm gonna love you with my hands tied. show me your teeth...just tell me when.
It was steaming hot, and I used it to my advantage. The crowd of fangbangers, vampires and humans were uproaring in yelling and arousement. I knew this was the time to be sultry, now or never. I needed to win Eric over. If I didn't Yvetta would be his, she'd take my place. I didn't care that Eric said he'd only slept with her once, I just knew that it would never happen again. I needed to prove it to him that I was better than Yvetta, that I could keep up with the foreign dancer. Even if deep inside, I knew she was better than I ever could be.
My mind screamed at me to convince my maker that I loved him and that would never change, to convince him that Yvetta was nothing to him. The thumping beat of Teeth picked up, and I unravelled myself from the pole, eyeing Eric and waltzing up to him for the ending of the overly sexual lyrics of the song, the beats blaring throughout the club. Eric's blue eyes looked up into mine with amusement and curiousity. I smirked at him, putting my legs on both sides of him, giving him the best lap dance I could conjure up.
Help need a man, now show me your fangs (my religion is you). Help need a man, now show me your fangs (my religion is you). Help need a man, now show me your fangs (my religion is you). Tell me something that'll save me, I need a man who makes me alright. Just tell me it's alright.
Tell me something that'll change me, I'm gonna love you with my hands tied. Show me your teeth...
Eric reached up and grabbed my pelvis in his clutches as I swung my hips on him to the song, my blond hair falling near my face. I looked into Eric's eyes, not breaking our eyes' lock, and wrapping my arms around his neck. His expression was shocked and gratifed, erotic. He leaned in and aggressively nipped at my neck with his fangs, my skin feeling cold under his possessive grasp. His bloody lips clashed with mine, and he tugged my head to him and forced his tongue into my mouth. I grinned through this kiss and both our fangs were extracted. The kiss deepened and he showed to be the dominant alpha.
Show me your teeth, open your mouth boy, show me your teeth. My religion is you...show me ya teeth, show me your teeth, show me your teeth, yeah...show me your teeth, show me your teeth, teeth, teeth!
I knew this is what I had to do. Show Yvetta she wasn't the girl Eric wanted. I'd never done this before, and I didn't know whether I was good at it or not. I broke away from Eric's agressive kiss, backing up. He watched me as I grinned maliciously at him, lilfting my hands up and throwing myself to the crowd, instantly crowd surfing like a professional. I stretched out as I was passed along by the loud and roudy crowd of fangbangers, vampires and humans. The lights, sounds and throbbing energy of the club made me feel eletrified.
Show me your teeth, teeth, teeth!
I smirked at Yvetta as I walked to Eric's office once my performance was finished. She glared at me, eyeing me up and down. She extracted her fangs at me and hissed, "I knew you were nut-hing but a Southern fangbanger whore."
"At least I'm not a cheap slut." I snapped, eyeing her up and down. Yvetta's eyes were glaring at me and she scoffed, "Please, Eh-ric doesn't love you. Don't flatter youhr-self." Infuriation was pressuring me, and I snapped. My fangs snapped down and I leaped for her, taking her down to the ground. She swore in Estonian and Russian. I was on top of her, ready to strike, when I felt to arms scoop me up under the arms like a child, and I was up in the air, being held in Eric's grasp against his chest, breaking up our little riot. It surprised me, because Eric was the type of sadistic bastard who'd like to watch two females fight for his attention and affection.
I squirmed, imprisoned in Eric's arms.
"Stop fucking fighting." He snapped, his blond hair slicked back. He set me down. He wore his black leather jacket, black wifebeater and black skinny jeans. He looked annoyed at our fight, not excited. Something was on his mind. His palm was flat against my chest, holding me back from viciously attacking Yvetta. He looked at me for a while then snapped his head to look at the Estonian dancer.
"Yvetta, иди. Сейчас." He yelled, in Russian. I didn't understand a word of Russian, so I was confused at what he spoke to her. She glared at him then gave me a really malicious glare, storming off to the backroom. Eric glanced down at me, his height leverage as he towered over me. I looked back up at him. He ran a hand through his slicked-back blond hair, and murmured, "Evie, låt oss gå (Evie, let's go)." I gulped. "Vart är vi på väg? (Where are we going?)" I asked. Eric rolled his eyes and wasn't ready to have a discussion. He ignored my question and lifted me up off my feet, throwing me over his shoulder and I bobbed up and down as he walked. "What are we doing? Eric, vad fan? (what the hell?)"
Eric carried me into his office over his shoulder, slamming the door behind him. He set me down. He walked to his desk and leaned against it, facing me. I was still in my stripper attire, making me feel quite uncomfortable and exposed. Eric glared at me for a minute before he patiently inhaled and snapped, "You know, Evie...I asked you to begin acting mature and not like a fucking newborn, like starting cat fights in my bar."
"Eric, I am a newborn. And Yvetta started it!" I snapped, dramatically pointing to the door as if Yvetta was standing there, "She's nothing but a gold-digger. You know it. She's a whore who's after your money. She hates me, she hates Pam. Why do you keep her around? Eric, please be honest. Do you love her? You must, if you fucked her in the fucking basement right after you turned me!" I blurted, bloody tears streaking down my face, feeling like an idiot.
Eric's eyes rolled like a parent dealing with their stubborn child. I really was acting spoiled, but the thought of Yvetta hanging off Eric's arm or kissing him made me want to kill somebody. He sighed and began walking to me, as I kept ranting. Eric quickly cupped his hand over my mouth, and he exhaled like he always did when he was going to say something he thought was significant, "Evie, do me a favor. Shut up."
I nodded, awaiting him to remove his hand. Once he did, I opened my mouth to rant about Yvetta again. He hushed me by taking my head in his hands and clashing his lips into mine, forcing his tongue entry into my mouth. He grabbed my hips and smacked me up against the doorway's threshold, bringing me up so my legs were wrapped around his torso. He extracted his fangs and lightly nipped at my neck, not puncturing skin. I yelped and he responded by kissing my neck, his blond hair falling in his eyes as he did it. He grabbed my upper torso and held it while we kissed, deepening. He ended it with a final kiss to my lips, gentle.
I felt hot and sweaty as Eric dropped me to my feet, as if we hadn't just aggressively made out for the past five minutes. He could attempt to avoid the competition between Yvetta and me as long as he wanted, but I would win. I'd find a way to make her pay without her interrupting.
Eric cleared his throat and ran a hand through his blond hair, "I don't want to hear anymore of this. I'll be back." He sped out of the room, and I stood there, dumbstruck.
Within a few hours, I stood with Pam in Eric's office when he burst through the door, his face was splattered with blood, his shirt was ripped open. Pam's jaw dropped as he came in, the blood decorating his face. I gasped when I saw him. Clearly he'd been in a fight. "We need sanctuary." Was the first demand that came out of his mouth. "Eric, why are you...?" I began. He glared at me, infuriated. "Oh my God...what have you done?" I choked out.
"I staked a vampire - the lover of Russell Edgington."
So, here's Evie vs. Yvetta. More to come.
I hope this isn't too out of character for Evie, because she normally isn't Mary-Sue.
I'm trying to portray her as a girl who feels betrayed and jealous, desperate to get her man back.
Hopefully I'm doing an OK job with that. Not trying to make it Mary-Sue (yuck).
Plus, the Eric vs. Russell is going to come into play, too.
Anyways, hope you liked the chapter!
Reviews would be appreciated very much! :)