A/N: Here's another chapter, thanks again for the reviews everybody.

Guest: Why? Short answer: I don't know. Writing decisions can be conscious or subconcious. If you want a longer answer login & pm me.

21: Judgement

There was a restrained air of excitement in the packed room beneath the observation booth. Banners for Oklahoma and Alabama hung prominently over the empty stage, in anticipation of tonight's announcements. Last night had been informal, a preliminary hearing that drew a smaller audience. Tonight was the 'show', the ruling, and even with extra seating the dribs and drabs drifting in had to stand at the back.

Pam and I spent the wait watching the crowd from the booth. Georgia himself had arrived, and Tennessee and Kentucky had each brought half a dozen vampires with them. There were representatives for both Carolinas, and Northern Florida. They all had an interest in who got Alabama. Missouri had arrived with a smaller contingent – he would be interested in both outcomes being in Amun and sharing a short border with Oklahoma.

Pam needed to understand high level politics now she was a sheriff. Jephson did not. So I commented in Norse, "The jostling to replace Nadia must be fierce."

Pam frowned. "Because many of Alabama's neighbours are here?"

I gestured at the empty tables on stage. "That, and Amun has chosen northern states to make the decision."

She was quick to understand. "Ah. Less conflict of interest or allegations of it."

"Yes. Yet Zeus picked three states that border Oklahoma."

"Everyone but Texas... he can hardly rule on this when he's presenting the case against her ..." She narrowed her eyes. "Zeus agreed a successor beforehand."

I nodded, pleased. "Perhaps. Or just those states. They have been co-operating lately."

"Some thought to pick you."

"Who?"

"Iowa and New Mexico were surprised you had no claim to Oklahoma." She'd caught that last night too, excellent.

"Only Iowa was disappointed." New Mexico was not, which suggested he had another candidate in mind, confirming the Zeus panel had already chosen someone.

She nodded in understanding.

"Did Texas know I was barred from succeeding Freyda?"

"Not from me or Karin. He might have guessed."

I nodded, and watched Texas for a moment. "Texas will want someone reliable to his north – Joseph?

Pam shrugged. "His pillow talk does not include matters of state."

I was about to ask what it did include, when the noise from the audience fell away.

The panel walked out onto the stage and took their seats.

Ohio, Kansas, Wisconsin and Colorado were dressed conservatively in dark suits. Iowa wore a stunning red dress, complimenting her raven black hair.

The Pythoness, in her usual robes, was escorted to her throne by her attendants.

New Mexico entered last. Face painted black with a stripe of yellow, bare-chested, a feathered headdress and arms adorned with gold and turquoise bracelets, he cut an impressive figure dressed as his namesake: Tezcatlipoca, Aztec god of the night sky, eternal youth and war amongst other things. He stood centre stage, staff of office in hand.

Pam chuckled. "He certainly enjoys the pantomime."

New Mexico opened the court by pounding the staff on the hollow stage. "This court of Amun and Zeus is in session, by my order as master-at-arms. You are called to witness the judgement between Nadia Al-Kahina of Alabama and Stan Davis of Texas, supported by Mississipi and Indiana. Bring the defendant."

Nadia was brought out, flanked by two guards. She was composed, wearing a long blue velvet gown, and she sat regally on the stage, ignoring the audience. Stan Davis mounted the stage and took his seat on the left, serious but relaxed.

New Mexico boomed out, "Alabama stands accused of three charges. Attempting to overthrow Felipe de Castro and take the state of Louisiana without authority of any clan. Subversion of the Amun council by corruption and bribery of two members. And lastly, treason against her sworn and sealed wife Freyda of Oklahoma by multiple attempts on her person." He paused for a few whispers of surprise in the audience.

"She's fucked," whispered Pam.

Jephson frowned at me. "They added new charges?"

"New evidence was uncovered." For subversion and treason. Boscombe's confession and the fae connection proved her treason against Freyda, even if she hadn't meant the attacks to succeed. The corruption charge indicated the bribes had been confirmed: either Amun was short two finally dead council members, or they'd saved their own necks by throwing Nadia to the wolves.

New Mexico held up the staff, and the whispers stopped. He laid the staff on the Zeus table and took his seat, nodding to Nadia.

She stood, speaking in a clear unwavering voice. "We have always valued strength in our leaders. My people deserve it from me. Nevada has overreached himself. Felipe de Castro is weak and all of Amun knows this. Under our beloved Sophie Ann," – Pam snorted at that, Sophie Ann had not particularly liked Nadia – "Louisiana was the jewel in Amun's crown. Today the state is vulnerable, and, especially in these troubled times, we must cull the weak to survive."

She swept a look across the panel finishing on Texas. "I envy Zeus their co-operation in the south. Human fundamentalists threaten us all. They can only be countered by solidarity between states. Under my rule, with Freyda at my side, Alabama, Oklahoma, Louisiana and Arkansas would have acted as one against them." No-one reacted to her admission that Arkansas had been part of her game plan. No-one was shocked.

"I have used all means at my disposal to protect my people from the coming storm, to remove a weak king and bolster Amun's strength in the south. I have done nothing to warrant punishment except fail in my goal. I have only done as has been done for centuries. Had I presented this as a fait accompli it would have been supported whole-heartedly." Her mouth twisted in contempt. "Nevada was too weak to stop me. He had to rely on help from Mississippi and Texas. Protecting the weak serves no-one. Strength is essential to our survival."

She bowed to the Pythoness and sat down.

New Mexico gestured to Texas, who stood, hands in pockets.

"Fundamentalists cannot be destroyed with brute force: cut one down and another dozen are created. They are defeated with public opinion. And that is also the biggest threat to our survival. Events are in flux and we are at a critical juncture. Human technology is advancing; more about our nature than we might wish may be revealed publicly. Their governments are wary of us. To survive we need leaders with foresight, cunning and above all the ability to adapt. Clinging to the old ways and traditions will not save us. We must begin to integrate our culture with theirs; it is the only way to avoid a conflict we cannot win."

He turned to Nadia. "You are right; a decade ago your actions would have met with approval. But this is not that time. We cannot afford bloody conflicts when our rulers are known and recognised. We cannot afford palaces littered with bodies mere hours after television cameras have left, as Oklahoma's was. We cannot keep covering up events of that magnitude. Your use of fae blood was extremely reckless. You put us all at risk with your methods. Strength must be tempered by reason."

He sat down and New Mexico stood. "Pythoness, are you ready to decide this matter?"

"I am." The crone bowed her head, wild white hair hiding her face until she raised it again. "Alabama risked us all. Her throne is forfeit. Nadia Al-Kahina is guilty on all three counts. She will be ended before dawn."

I watched Nadia intently, but she gave no reaction. There were a few murmurs from the audience, but not much surprise: even under the old ways treason and corruption were punished harshly. If you were caught.

"In deference to your rank, your end will not be public. Sentence will be enacted by the former Oklahoma consort, Eric the Northman or his proxy."

Now that got more whispers, and a definite reaction from Teresa, who bent her head to Bill and spoke urgently in his ear. Pam raised an eyebrow. "Someone just realised you are here."

"Indeed." With luck yesterday hadn't given my recovery away. Teresa would assume the closed testimony and the proxy were to accommodate my severe injuries. Felipe would not immediately demand I leave Area 5. He might send someone to end me, but I was ready for that.

Iowa stood. "I speak for this council. Our rulings in this complex dispute are as follows. Nevada's petition for compensation from Alabama is granted in part, the amount is quartered. Eric the Northman is granted damages from Oklahoma for loss of his position as consort, and damages for his injuries in full from the personal funds of Nadia Al-Kahina."

Pam whispered, "Did you ask –"

"Only the injuries." Consorts didn't get compensated usually, but I wasn't going to refuse it.

"Georgia, any accomplices held in Alabama will be dealt with by the incoming monarch. Texas, any accomplices you hold must be turned over to Oklahoma by dawn. This ends our ruling."

Hmm. Texas definitely knew who was taking Oklahoma – he'd been very sure of Boscombe's fate. I watched as Nadia, icily calm, was escorted out.

New Mexico knocked his staff twice. "Pythoness, are you ready to appoint the new rulers for Oklahoma and Alabama chosen on behalf of Amun and Zeus?"

"I am." The room became completely still. An attendant handed her a heavy metal seal on a chain. I recognised it, and the vampire who emerged from a side door to cross the stage.

Wearing ornate yellow and blue robes of my former state, she bowed in front of the Pythoness, who said clearly, "Isabel Beaumont do you accept the state of Oklahoma?"

After Isabel had sworn her oaths, and the Oklahoma seal hung around her neck, she moved to stand under the Oklahoma banner next to the Amun table.

The Pythoness was passed a second seal.

Again I recognised the vampire crossing the stage in the red and blue robes of her new state.

I had only met the vibrant African twice, but she had a reputation for common sense like her blood brother, Virginia. She was a good choice, old enough and experienced because she had been Virginia's second for several decades. As Zola was sworn in, I remarked to Pam that they had chosen from outside of Amun to sidestep the bickering. She had no ties to interested parties, except that she had been close to Georgia about a century ago. And if Georgia had manoeuvred an old ally into place, it was just reward for his part in Nadia's downfall.

Jephson received a call over his earpiece. "Time to move, Eric."

I rose, glancing down at the crowds milling around the two queens to congratulate them. The plan was to get to Stan's rooms before the audience began dispersing.

Jephson led us, and an armed escort of three Weres, up two floors using the staff stairwell. Then he swept us along an empty corridor to a door flanked by the two vampire guards from yesterday. Jephson ushered us inside into a spacious sitting room, dismissing the Weres.

Pam heated us bloods, and Jephson stepped out for an update. When he returned he said, "Texas will be here as soon as he can."

I sipped the blood and asked, "How long are you in Dallas for?"

"Just for this. Then it's back to Okie. I left Ralph in charge, he'll handle it."

"Security is good?"

"Yeah, Texas left enough forces there." He gave me one of his piercing stares. "They don't know the layout and the locals though. Shame you couldn't stay."

I shrugged. He wasn't one for sentiment, so that told me enough.

"What's this Beaumont chick like?"

Pam warned, "Be respectful or she'll have your head."

I smirked at him, and he shook his head at me. "I thought for sure any child of yours would have a sense of humour."

"You're just not very funny, wolf."

Pam looked between us. "No he's not. Your new queen won't like your jokes."

I chuckled. "Isabel is quite serious. But she'll be fair." I couldn't say much more, but he nodded as if that was enough.

Pam started a discussion about security systems and I left them to it. I stood at the window, hand in my pocket, sipping my blood and watching traffic, thinking about Nadia.

I turned to the door as the voices from the corridor got louder.

Texas came in, followed by Isabel, who was wearing an elegant rich brown dress. Jephson stood, nodded to Texas and left. Pam got up to heat more blood and Stan nodded to me and removed his suit jacket, throwing it over the back of a chair, still speaking to Isabel about tax law by the sound of it. They broke off, and Stan joined Pam at the bar. Isabel approached me.

I bowed deeply. "Congratulations, your majesty."

She nodded, but watched me closely. "Thank you."

"Oklahoma will do well under a more experienced queen."

She hesitated. "Or king. I would not have agreed if… other options were available."

"Joseph?"

Her eyes softened slightly. "Stan needs him in Houston. I didn't mean Joseph."

Ah. "I was never an option."

"That is a loss for Oklahoma."

"You are far too humble for a queen."

Her mouth twitched. "Or you are not accustomed to queens with sense."

I smiled a little. "Perhaps not."

"You are less ambitious than I anticipated. I did not wish to step on your toes, as they say."

"You did not."

She smiled fleetingly. "Good. I would not wish you for an enemy." Her face stilled and she became very serious. "My condolences for your child."

I became equally sombre. "You avenged her. Thank you"

"I… had come to know her a little. I am only sorry I could not prevent it."

"I saw the tapes. It was unavoidable."

Luckily we were both saved from further uncomfortable conversation by Mississippi and Indiana. They entered, exchanged nods with everyone, and joined Texas on the couches.

Someone unexpected came in after them. He bowed gracefully to the three kings and made his way over to Isabel.

He bowed. "Congratulations, my liege. Everything will be ready on time."

"Thank you, Jean-Luc."

If he had been involved in Nadia's schemes, he must have covered his tracks very well to keep his position under Isabel. I kept my eyes on him as we nodded to each other. He looked faintly amused.

"Jean-Luc."

"Eric. A pleasure to see you."

I gave him a cool gaze until he looked away. Was that a smirk? It was smoothed away too fast to be sure.

Isabel reprimanded him with a sharp glance, and said, "Jean-Luc is to remain in Oklahoma. His local knowledge will be invaluable." She paused, and added. "I have chosen Jean-Luc as my second, as you might choose Pam."

I blinked and looked between them.

She was Jean-Luc's mysterious maker.

Pieces rearranged rapidly. He had been loyal to Darius, but not to Freyda. He had been working for another state, at least since Darius was ended. And that explained how Texas got such detailed information about everything. It had been bugging me because Nikolai hadn't had access to... Ah. Hmm. Nikolai. Had Stan sent him as a decoy for his true spy?

I looked at Jean-Luc, who was waiting patiently. "Nikolai?"

He shrugged. "Not ours. At least, not Stan's." Not that he wouldn't have ended a Texan spy to protect his own ass.

"Then whose?"

"A trail of crumbs led to Texas, a false trail for Freyda." And he couldn't tell Freyda it was false without revealing his own loyalty to Texas. He added, "From what I could tell, all he did was get close to you."

"Nadia's then. So Freyda would distrust me."

He grimaced. "Probably. Freyda was easily fooled. Nikolai may not have known who he was working for, or to what end."

"Yes. He lacked the subtlety for anything delicate." But he was blond, Russian, coarse… Nadia chose him to appeal to me.

"Yes. The rumours about you…" His tone was light, but his shoulders tensed. He was worried I'd been fond of Nikolai.

"I appreciated his humour, nothing more."

"Well, I wondered. You have such lousy taste in men. That gardener looked nothing like me."

I choked back a surprised laugh. "You checked?"

"Of course! Mon Dieu, a man has his pride. How could you think I was that ugly? The guy had buck teeth."

Isabel supressed a smile. Who knew he had a sense of humour? He'd played his part too well. I'd thought that stick was well and truly lodged up his ass. I shook my head at him. "You French are so vain."

He grinned. "Annoyed the fuck out of Freyda though. Well played."

I smirked. "You played with her more than I did."

He grimaced. "Ugh. Don't remind me."

We both sobered and I gave him a thoughtful look. "You were loyal to Darius."

"I was a fool not to see through Freyda's plans in time to save him. It is my biggest regret." He shook his head, looked at me seriously, and bowed. "I regret the necessity of deceiving you."

"You have a talent for it, and it was very necessary." I smiled slightly and nodded in return. "Besides, I enjoyed our sparring."

He seemed satisfied with that, and turned to Isabel. I took that as my cue, and joined Pam on one of the couches. The kings were gossiping about the trial.

"Kentucky seemed relaxed." Indiana did too, shirt sleeves rolled and arms spread across the back of the couch. Mississippi sat at the other end in an immaculate suit, legs crossed neatly. Complete opposites.

Texas nodded. "I had a good view form the stage. Tennessee was tense."

"He is one who would not agree with your arguments. Stuck in the past. And he is greedy," Russell said as he fussed with his expensive watch, and Pam shot me an amused look. Ah, that watch.

Isabel gracefully took a seat next to Stan, and Jean-Luc stood beside her and caught my attention. "Eric, you forgot to ask me to go easy on Boscombe."

I shrugged.

He grinned wolfishly, as he had before we fought the Weres. "I will tell him you spoke eloquently for his life, but my heart was set on revenge. He is going to pay for his part in ending Darius once we get back to Oklahoma. At least for a few nights." He kissed Isabel's hand and left.

There was a short pause. Bartlett was watching me intently, but Russell spoke first. "So, everything is finished. Justice is served, n'est-ce pas? Or it will be once Eric is done tonight."

Stan looked at me. "Still waiting?"

"Let her stew for a while."

He nodded. "It has turned out well."

Bartlett's deep voice was quiet as he announced, "Except that Nadia was right." Isabel was a little surprised, but Russell and Stan were not.

"How so?" Isabel asked politely.

Bartlett was still watching me. "Felipe is weak. The last thing the region needs is more bloodshed, but Louisiana is too tempting."

Stan agreed. "Yes, Felipe cannot hold it against a serious challenge."

Russell snorted. "And the prick just advertised his lack of funds to all and sundry. That compensation claim was lunacy."

I was gauging the balance of power between them, and where they were going with this. They were right; de Castro had erred with his claim. I looked between them thoughtfully. "Iowa deliberately exposed his weakness with her questions."

Bartlett nodded, and Russell put in, "And everyone knows he was careless enough to get ambushed in his own territory."

Stan swirled his bottle of blood, looking down at it. "He is ripe for a takeover."

I met Bartlett's hazel eyes. He searched mine for a long second. "Stan was also right. We need leaders with strength and reason."

Oh shit.

Stan leant back, and turned to Isabel, "You are inheriting a well ordered state, are you not?"

Isabel looked between them, and answered cautiously. "Yes, it seems so. The finances are strong, the security is good. Once I replace Nadia's bad apples…"

Russell was buffing his fingernails. "Northman has proved competent to rule, if that was in any doubt."

Double shit. The flood of excitement from Pam was aggravating, and I slammed our connection shut.

Stan spelt it out. "You have our support Eric."

I managed to sound calm and keep my face smooth. "Why me?"

"Amun is fragmented, lacking the co-operation we have in Zeus. We need likeminded allies, ones that are flexible, prepared to drag vampire into this century by their fangs and force them to let go of the old ways." Stan knew I agreed with him on that.

Pam could not contain herself, and opened her mouth. I cut her off with a look so harsh, she bowed her head meekly.

Bartlett drilled his eyes into mine again. "Ocella is gone. You have no obligations, no excuse to duck the responsibility."

Stan leant forward. "Think about it, Eric."

"A reluctant king is not what you want." I'd been reluctant enough for the last three years.

Russell chuckled. "Oh my dear, reluctant rulers are always the best. The eager ones are all greedy, grasping scum."

I didn't need this right now. I wanted time to myself. To get away, get over… And it would have to be done soon, to catch de Castro with his metaphorical pants down. Shit.

But if it wasn't me … Pam would be at risk. Fuck.

"I will consider it." The words tasted like ash. I'd said the same thing to Freyda so many times during our 'negotiations'.

"Good. You have two weeks to think it over." Bartlett smiled. "Now, shall we discuss the latest on the Chosen?"

They talked for half an hour about the paramilitary group, their new strategies and other upcoming threats. I listened more than I spoke. Tooth n' Claw came up a few times, and Stan mentioned Daisy Riverstone. Pam took great delight in remarking that I'd fucked one of her powerful ancestors, adding I had a thing for strong women. Stan gave her an amused look that said that was no surprise to him, and she shut up.

Russell steered us back to gossip from the trial. I tucked away some snippets about Amun. The new king of Ohio was relatively unknown, but seemed to be holding his own. Wisconsin had clearly favoured de Castro, and they assumed some financial connection.

I didn't mention my suspicion that Bill was involved or how. It wasn't good to reveal your hand early, and if I took Louisiana, he would be my asset. Try as I might to reject their suggestion, my mind kept throwing up strategies and possibilities.

After a slight lull, Russell asked with a twinkle in his eye, "So Eric, how did you meet the lovely Ms Kingfisher?"

"Around," I answered, deliberately vague.

He leaned forward eagerly. "She can mask her scent. How does she taste?"

"I wouldn't know."

He slumped back and pouted. "You didn't taste her? Damn."

"She has defences. And it's not wise to piss off a healer." That should deterred the curious, not that I thought Russell was about to track her down for her blood. It didn't come in the right packaging.

Russell huffed, denied juicy gossip, and Bartlett gave him an affectionate look. Then he gave me a shrewder perusal. "There is something between you though. A debt perhaps?"

I relaxed back into the chair. I wasn't going admit that I'd thanked her and obligated myself to her. "Perhaps."

"A testimonial seems a small repayment for the healing. But you have other fae connections, do you not?"

Damn, he knew or suspected more than I wanted to reveal. But then if I was playing kingmaker, I'd want to know everything about my favoured candidate too.

"I have some connections, yes." I bid low.

"Influential connections. To Brigant himself I believe." He bid high. Fuck.

I feigned nonchalance. "We have an understanding, exchange favours. I have known him for some time."

"He has influence. Enough to arrange your healing. Why?" He wanted to know what I had on Brigant or more importantly what Brigant had over me. A potential king indebted to the fae – not good.

"We exchange favours, as I said." I was not going to reveal the connection to Sookie.

Russell tilted his head. "The telepath is fae, very distantly." Ah. He'd tasted her in Jackson. I had forgotten.

I shrugged.

Bartlett frowned. "She is recent. Your history with Brigant predates her." I nodded; pleased he seemed to be discounting her. "Who owes who currently in this little exchange?"

"We are even. The Prince has always been reasonable in his requests." I emphasised they were requests, that I didn't owe any sort of obedience to him and he had no sway over me. That did not go over as well as I expected. There was a short silence.

Stan cleared his throat. "He wouldn't know. It's too recent."

I frowned. "I am aware the portals are open."

Stan sat forward. "You have seen Brigant recently?"

"Yes."

Russell snorted. "You can't be that favoured then."

Stan turned to Isabel. "You also need to be aware of the current fae situation."

I sat forward and bit back my annoyance with Brigant to ask calmly but firmly, "What situation?"

Stan answered, "Brigant is no longer Prince."

Fuck. What did that mean for Sookie?

Russell put in, "They've put a council in place instead. He's stepped down. Or been demoted."

Pam hissed. "Arrogant fucker didn't act like it."

Fuck. Breandan's faction had attacked Sookie fairly recently, if they had gained ground… "What sort of council?" I asked sharply.

Bartlett elaborated. "I believe the fae have resurrected their original system. It has representatives from all the fae clans, and even a few lesser races. Their civil war is over."

"I see." I sat back deep in thought. "And there is no Prince?"

"No. Brigant is now their Envoy for North America. There are others for other regions. Brigant is to be our point of contact. Crossings between the realms are tightly controlled for now. This was announced officially to the clans ten days ago, and the decision was made to keep the news to the clans and monarchs."

I nodded to confirm I understood that telling me was a favour, and I would keep it quiet. I could be annoyed that Niall hadn't said anything, but our meeting had been brief, with others present. He was always a law unto himself anyway.

Shortly afterwards, Isabel excused herself to leave for her new kingdom, and I nodded to Stan. It was almost time.

Russell and Bartlett excused themselves and Stan called for some donors. He took a busty redhead into a bedroom with Pam, while I stayed in the main room with a beefy donor. Thankfully this guy was quiet, and his blood rich. I drank and dismissed him quickly, my mind on other things. Pam's was not judging by the noises from the bedroom.

Stan emerged, pink and sated, closing the door behind him. He picked up his jacket from the chair, and cast my jeans and t-shirt an envious glance. I chuckled and he gave me a baleful look. "Enjoy the freedom while you can."

I stopped chuckling.

Stan brushed down his lapels, and looked up to catch my serious expression. "Don't look so grim, Eric. Not having to answer to anyone is very agreeable."

"I could have that without a kingdom. Monarchs still to answer to one another and the clans."

He shrugged. "We will find someone else then. But you are our first choice, make no mistake."

"You trust me?"

"Enough. Bartlett is sure of you, which is high praise." A noise from the bedroom made him turn, and the donor emerged. I caught the sound of a shower before she pulled the door shut. She straightened her clothes and smiled at Stan as she left. When he turned back to me, he was wary.

"I hope you don't object…" He cast a glance towards the closed bedroom door.

I raised an eyebrow. "Are you asking permission? You're lucky she's in the shower. She'll have your balls."

He grimaced. "I had to ask. Some makers–"

I shook my head. "It's her business."

"Yes, she said that you don't interfere." He paused. "I didn't take advantage when she needed my help. This started before you left. Before Miriam."

I blinked. That he knew about Miriam was a mark of Pam's trust – or how lonely she'd been, I thought with a stab of guilt. "What is between you, Stan?" She would have my balls for asking too, but the shower was still going.

"Respect. She has mine. And a little fun. That's all."

"Good." I smirked. "She likes fun."

Stan took us to another warehouse, an ex-abattoir by the smell, in a district that was quiet at this time of night – three hours to dawn. Plenty of time.

The building was well guarded, but a nod from Stan got us admitted. As Stan led us down a cold corridor, a guard came around a corner and halted abruptly. The tall dark vampire was familiar and wide-eyed as we drew closer.

He swallowed, and bowed to Stan. "Your majesty."

I stopped. "Salvatore."

"Cons…" He straightened his shoulders and started again. "Eric. Before you send me after Vittorio, I beg a favour."

"I'm not going to end you."

"I… But I …" He stopped, unwilling to mention that he'd beaten me to a pulp.

I shrugged. "You believed me responsible for Vittorio's death. I would have done the same." If Ocella had given me a sane brother I liked, that is. "What favour do you ask?"

He was still a little wary, but relieved. "Give that bitch hell for Vittorio."

I chuckled. "You don't have to ask for that." I turned to Stan, who had been watching with interest and spoke in Polish. "He is capable. Sharp tongued, but observant."

"Why would you kill him?"

"Freyda let him take some revenge for his brother. Broken bones, nothing unforgivable enough to waste a useful vampire."

Stan chuckled. "You think like a king already."

I hissed in annoyance, which made Salvatore nervous. "Let's get on with this."

The room smelt of disinfectant. White tiles, sluices and drains brought memories that I ruthlessly supressed. Two guards stood inside, Texas and Pam watched through a one-way window. Everything I'd asked for was there: the wood, the tools, the haunch of meat, the large orange machine.

I ran my hand along the cold metal as I walked past the business end – a gaping maw yawning towards Nadia, just as I'd asked.

A wood chipper.

Nadia was shoeless, but still dressed in her finery. The long gown was torn and dusty, so she'd struggled or the guards were heavy handed. Her arms were pulled straight and cuffed to the wall. The silver clashed horribly with her jewellery.

She watched me without expression as I placed a stool a few feet in front of her, out of her reach, and then nonchalantly strolled over to her.

I had to hold her wrist still to find the clasp on her thick gold bracelet. I tutted as she struggled. "Nadia, Nadia. Gold and silver together. Queens should never clash." I removed the bracelet, and then reached for her necklace. She hissed and lunged trying to get her fangs to me, but I grabbed her neck to hold her off, and pinned her legs to the wall with one of mine. I took a firm grasp of the necklace and tugged, pulling the broken chain from her neck. "Now look. I had to snap it," I admonished.

I stepped back and examined the pieces, ignoring her hiss. It was like her to want to go down looking like a queen. That she'd chosen these to wear tonight meant they had some significance to her, and that meant I could guess their provenance with my eyes shut.

"Not good quality, high carat though. Hmmm. Old by the style." I looked up at her; she was pissed but trying to hide it. "Sentimental value then. Family heirlooms?"

I waited but she refused to speak. I played with the chains absently. Time to provoke her. "Not from your human family. Not old enough. And they wouldn't have such riches, not your people, not Berbers, second class citizens in a Caliphate built on their blood and sweat."

She hissed. "They had riches. Until your people came. You Norse are all the same – common thieves. Gold, gems, you grab whatever you see. Then you slaughter to cover your shame. Stinking savages. " She bit off her words, and got control of herself again.

I chuckled. "Nadia, you are stuck in the past. That time is gone. But you wore these tonight, they are important." Enough toying with her. "A gift from Tariq."

She hissed. "Do not speak his name. Another you murdered for gold."

I shrugged. "If he had gold, I never saw it. Ocella killed him. You know that. And not for gold."

I sat on the stool and waited. I knew she would give in to her curiosity.

All those hours of pain and blood with her: she thought she was breaking me, stripping me down, but at the same time she was bearing herself to me, down to her bones. I knew the bitterness in her marrow. Her maker's death haunted her. It had driven her for centuries; she was consumed by it, by his loss and her craving for vengeance.

"If not for gold, then why?" She spat out the words resentfully.

"Ocella was a jealous maker."

She sneered. "You lie. Tariq would never take you as a lover."

I stretched my legs out lazily. "No, we weren't lovers. Tariq was very knowledgeable. He taught me Arabic, and Turkish. And mathematics. He was a good teacher. Ocella was jealous of the time we spent together."

She blinked.

"Ocella could see the value in me acquiring such knowledge, but thought it was beneath him. So he allowed my lessons at first. But when we began discussing philosophy and religion, became friends, Ocella couldn't stand it."

She hissed. "You were not his friend. My maker would never–"

"Treat a barbarian like me as an equal? He treated you as an equal. And his people called yours Berbers, barbarians, did they not?"

She glared at me. "Liar. You insult his memory. You are the one who is jealous. Jealous because your maker was a filthy pig, a brute, who treated you like dirt, like a slave. How did it feel when he sold you to a queen so far beneath you, sold you, his perfect creation, for a pittance?" She cackled. "And all to protect your defective brother. He valued that deviant Russian over you."

I grinned at her. "And after three short years Alexei, Ocella and Freyda are all gone and I am free. You lost Nadia. You didn't even get to punish Ocella."

"He's gone. It is enough."

"Is it? But you planned so much misery for him. You never got to torture him through Alexei or force him to command me to serve you. You didn't get to have Ocella in your grasp, watching as you built an empire, helpless as you took his children from him, as you destroyed me and ended Alexei. You had such plans, such magnificent plans to make Ocella suffer over and over for Tariq's death."

"But you failed Tariq, Nadia. You failed to avenge your beloved maker. Ocella died happy."

He died gleeful, in fact. He was in pain, resigned to following Alexei, but he wanted Sookie alive to see me sold to Freyda, alive so I would suffer leaving her behind – his final bitter lesson for me. Saving Sookie, feeling my gratitude for that even when I knew he was only doing it to twist the knife, filled him with spiteful glee in his last moments.

Nadia was a rank amateur next to him. He was an expert at psychological torture.

"Wh-what?"

"I was there. I felt it. Ocella made his peace with death. Alexei was gone, and he had secured a position for me. He never knew your plans, never tasted defeat. He was content, Nadia. You failed."

She stared at me. "No. No. You lie."

I shrugged. "It's the truth." I stood, pocketing the chains. "Let's take five. Pam loves gold; I want her to have these." I walked away, patting the wood chipper again on the way past.

I paused and turned back. "By the way, what was Boscombe's reward? He never said. Arkansas?"

She hissed at the confirmation he had betrayed her, and to me too. I bowed mockingly.

I joined Pam and Texas in the observation room. I sat and waited for about fifteen minutes until Nadia's shoulders slumped slightly. It was hurting her deeply that she hadn't avenged her maker as she'd wished. Good. I gave her ten minutes more for the sense of defeat to really start eating at her.

I went back into the room, and over to the table of tools, choosing a suitable pair of pliers.

"It is time to begin, Nadia. I'm afraid Pam is picky about jewellery. Your gold was not up to her standards."

I flashed to her, pinning her against the wall by her throat. I squeezed until her jaw opened and took the first fang, twisting it first to pull it cleanly. I wiped it on her dress and put it between my teeth, freeing the pliers to pull the second. Again I wiped it on her dress and stepped back quickly.

She spat as I released her, but I already was out of range. I inspected the fangs. "Pam prefers ivory. Perhaps mounted in the gold. These will do nicely." I took out a handkerchief, wrapped them carefully and pocketed them.

She hissed, but the effect was somewhat comical.

"Nadia, say it, don't spray it. Now your lovely gown is ruined."

"Go ahead. Rip it off. Take your revenge the way of all bastards."

I laughed. Loudly. "Oh Nadia, I still don't want to fuck you."

"If you're not man enough, I'm sure the guards are up to it." Her goading was a tactic to delay her acquaintance with the tray of tools and Mr Chipper.

I stepped closer and lowered my voice. "Nadia, Nadia. I am not like you. I do not need to rape you. You are already powerless and we both know it. Soon you will be dust, and I will walk out of here. Now let's cut to the chase. I don't have the luxury of twelve nights to tease."

To rub it in, I gave her my back and chuckled quietly as she struggled to kick me as I walked away.

I beckoned one of the guards over, and we made a show of going over the controls and running down the statistics. How much wood, how fast, etc. Nadia looked like she wanted to put her fingers in her ears.

Steeling myself for the noise, I started it up. It was loud, but not too loud to talk over.

"Let's try the wood."

I had him tie a bag over the chute. We fed a few fence posts into it, so Nadia could see. Filled the trash bag, and showed her the splinters. She held herself still, her face a mask.

"I need to test it with flesh and bone." I uncovered the haunch of beef and threw it in, steeling myself. The machine whined and groaned, but it coped. I brought Nadia the bag of remains, ground up meat and bone, lifted some and crumbled it in front of her face. It smelt awful. She gagged. I dropped the bag at her feet so she could enjoy the smell, and wiped my hand on her dress for good measure.

I sighed, and frowned at the machine in mock concern. "I don't know. Our flesh is different. I don't want it to jam when she's half way."

I went to the table of tools, and made a great show of choosing a pair of bolt-cutters as I slipped a second item into the back of my jeans out of Nadia's sight. I brought the cutters over to Nadia, and forced her right hand flat against the wall. I neatly took her index finger at the base, ignoring the gush of blood, the hoarse shout and stream of curses she let out.

When she was concentrating again, I threw the severed finger neatly into the hopper without looking, watching her face. The sound changed slightly as it went through the blades. She couldn't take her eyes off it. She was practically vibrating with fear. Perfect.

In Oklahoma I had refused to beg for my end, no matter what she tried. But I told her many times that I would make her grateful for her death at my hand.

I slipped the stake from my jeans and had it implanted an inch into her chest before she noticed. She looked down and up again into my eyes, hers wide with surprised recognition and … yes. There it was.

Gratitude.

My fangs snapped down. I smiled widely, leant in and kissed her hard, nicking my tongue and mixing our blood, tasting the fear, relief and gratitude in hers.

I pulled back and said, as if she'd thanked me out loud, "You're welcome Nadia."

I paused long enough for her to realise I'd fulfilled my promise. Her eyes flashed, and she let out a scream of denial and rage.

Then I rammed the stake home, snarling over her: "For Karin."

I stepped back to watch her eyes dull, her face freeze, her body crumble and implode, licking my lips clean of her blood and savouring the sweet taste of victory.

I basked in it for as long as I could.

Then the smell of ground beef, the smell of her blood and the noise of the machine overwhelmed me. Instantly I was in another room, drowning in the smell of my own blood, the taste of my own flesh heavy on my tongue, pain everywhere. I collapsed to my knees, wrapping my arms around my head to block out the noise.

I was vaguely aware of Stan shouting at the guards to get out, and Pam standing protectively over me. "The noise," I demanded weakly.

Stan cursed in the background and the whine died. I staggered to my feet and waved them both back, holding myself up on the hopper, desperately trying to will the shaking away. "A minute," I muttered.

A few seconds later there was a pop, and I felt warm hands against my back. The shaking receded.

Rory. I recognised her scent as my mind cleared. I turned round to face her, still leaning on the machine for support.

She yelled at me then. "Genius Eric! Exactly the right conditions for a flashback. Why not reopen the wound! Congratulations. You deserve a Darwin award."

I winced at the noise, but gave her a weak smirk. "Evolution hardly applies to vampires. And I'm not any deader than usual."

"You're not impervious Eric, shit will stick to you." She looked at the tools with distaste. "What did you do to her?"

Fae were no strangers to torture. Perhaps she objected because of her calling?

Stan drawled. "Less than she deserved. And he still broke her. Magnificently." He gave me a deep bow of respect, eyes twinkling.

Rory glared at me until I answered for myself. I gave in quickly, in no state to resist. "I took her fangs and a finger. Then I staked her."

She snapped, "And what else?"

I shrugged. "Nothing else physical. But I made her taste her defeat. Here." I tapped my temple.

She frowned, and looked me over intently. I got the distinct impression she was examining something invisible to the rest of us. Finally satisfied, she nodded to herself, and said grudgingly, "Could be worse. You'll live."

Then she looked over at Nadia's ashes with a malicious gleam in her eye. "Is that her? May I?"

"Go ahead." I was staying put for the moment. Pam scowled at me, sensing my weakness – she hadn't been happy about the wood chipper, and she obviously had Rory ready on speed dial.

I growled at her, "I needed to do it this way. For Karin." And myself, I didn't need to add.

Stan's bark of laughter had us both turning to see Rory dancing enthusiastically in Nadia's remains. I laughed.

Pam said curiously, "I've never seen someone actually do that."

Rory gave a curtsey, grinning viciously, and stepped out of the cloud of ash she'd kicked up, stamping a few times to knock dust off her boots. "I've always wanted to do that. Worth ruining these boots on that sadistic cow."

I chuckled, finally moving away from the chipper, feeling much better. "That must be why Pam never tried it."

"I'd rather bathe in their blood. Good for the skin. Especially fae blood." Pam gave Rory a fangy grin, and licked her lips.

Rory rolled her eyes and laughed. "See you back in Shreveport, Eric. Don't forget that cream." She winked and popped away.

Stan turned to Pam, still smiling. "She's not that annoying. For a fae."

Pam scowled. "You haven't known her long enough, give it time. Let's get out of here."

.

A/N: I hope that was as satisfying for my more bloodthirsty readers as it was for Eric.