Chapter 21
***My continued thanks to my beautiful beta, NorthmanMaille. She is more valuable to me than a mountain of jewels.***
"Should I be jealous?"
Eric's voice appeared, as if from nowhere, at the top of the stairs. "Our bond amplified only moments ago, and already you offer your love to another? What am I to do?"
Feeling the grin stretch broad across her cheeks, Sookie turned to face him. What an exquisite picture he made, so tall and pale against the dark wood and shadows of the massive staircase. He moved with the casual grace and confidence of one whom, for at least this moment in time, was completely satisfied.
"Do you feel threatened?" she teased.
"Not in the slightest," was his immediate retort. "You alone are my equal. I fear no other." His exuberant laugh reached his eyes in the instant before it filled the cavernous hall.
"Oh yes," she scoffed, adding her laughter to his. "No doubt you're terrified of me."
"To a shocking degree, my love, I assure you."
"Mmm, I think I can see you trembling from here."
"You think?" With blinding speed, he gave up his slow advance down the stairs and arrived toe to toe with her on the main floor. "Perhaps you require a more thorough examination of the evidence in order to be convinced?" he whispered, lacing his fingers with hers and pulling her into him.
"I can't think of anything I'd rather do than examine your, um, evidence, but I'm sure it will be just as compelling if we wait until we're in more private surroundings. The entry hall of a fortress doesn't exactly make a great place for romance."
"Romance, my love?" His pretended confusion was accompanied by a playful grin. "You see how you addle my thoughts? I was certain we were discussing chain of custody procedures."
"Yeah, well you think too much," Sookie replied with a laugh, as she ducked under his arm, circling behind him and back toward the stairs. Heller was just coming down. Mina and Oliver followed, he with his handless arm placed discretely at the small of her back.
Heller stopped when Sookie looked up at him. He gave her a bow much more formal than his usual familiar nod. "Your entire household is happy beyond words that you will be coming back to us. I don't know if your ladies could have survived your loss."
"It is our household, Heller," Sookie said, reaching out for his hand. "Thank you, and believe me, no one is happier than I am that I'm coming home. Tonight will be our last night in Spain. Tomorrow you can pack us all up and take us to Milan. After that, we're going home, and I hope we'll stay home for a nice, long time." She turned to Eric for confirmation.
"As my Queen commands," he said with a ridiculously low bow.
"Oh, Eric, please stop that and be serious," Sookie pleaded. "Should we go back upstairs? Would it be rude if we just went ahead and left now?"
"We are royalty, my love," Eric answered with complete sincerity. "One of the advantages is the luxury to come and go as we please without fear of being censured for our behavior. Provided, of course, we are not being held for an inopportune staking. Fortunately, we are finished with that unpleasantness, so unless you plan on killing anyone else, I believe we may depart unmolested."
"I'm thinking about killing you," She hissed as she stalked past him to the door. A hearty laugh was all the reply he gave.
XXXXXXX
As she and Eric made their way across the villa's sunroom and down the stairs, hidden beneath the pretend duck pond, the only thing on Sookie's mind was her irritation at Eric's insistence they not run. He chose the oddest times to enforce his sense of decorum, which seemed to come and go with his mood. At present, the order of the day was calm, when all she wanted to do was hurry through the obligatory goodbyes as quickly as possible, so they could be on their way.
She was impatient to leave Spain behind her. The sooner she got finished here, the sooner she could retire for the evening, and the sooner she would sleep. When she rose tomorrow evening she would be in Italy, far from this place and all of its unhappy memories.
She entered the small kitchenette, still locked arm in arm with Eric as if he were escorting her into a ballroom. When she tried to break away and bolt for the swinging doors leading into Ramon's cavernous playroom, Eric held her back. The transfer ceremony may have made them equal in the vampire social hierarchy, but he was still physically stronger than her.
"Only fools rush in, my love," he murmured with an easy smile.
She stared up at him, making no effort to disguise her growing annoyance. "You're quoting Bubba? Really? All I want to do is get the hell out of here, and you're quoting Bubba?"
"With his extensive song library, there are bound to be occasions when a line is appropriate," he answered casually, pretending not to notice her expression or tone, and not loosening his hold. "Look." He nodded toward the one-way window separating the two rooms.
She couldn't see into the room from where she stood, but when she approached the glass, she knew right away what he wanted her to see.
Goodbyes at the villa were going to be harder than she'd anticipated.
Gawain and one of the human nannies, what was her name, were sprawled out in the middle of the floor, one on either side of Ramon. The three of them were building a house, or a castle, or something out of wooden blocks.
Esperanza. Sookie had not recalled the name. It came to her from the mind of another. Gawain, she realized. He could think of little else. A shroud of fog most often blurred the thoughts of the fae, but everything Gawain was thinking was coming through to her as clear as a bell. He was smitten with her and he made no effort to conceal it.
Of course, Esperanza's mind was even easier to infiltrate, though Sookie was saddened by what she found there. It felt like walking through a brightly lit room with inexplicable dark patches placed throughout; in no discernable order and for no apparent reason. The dark spaces were accompanied by a biting cold draft, no doubt planted there by Ermessen to discourage Esperanza, or anyone else who might be rummaging around in there, from getting too near and accidentally triggering memories of whatever was hidden in the dark.
In the well-lighted sections of her mind, it was clear she was devoted to Ramon, and she was already terribly fond of Gawain and his attentions toward her. Her distant cousin would not be as miserable living at the villa as Sookie had first feared. Her great-grandfather was so quick to offer Gawain up as a hostage in residence, it made her wonder if he'd come here himself and made sure the situation would be tolerable, before his negotiations with the Pythoness.
Surely, he must have, she thought, more to comfort herself than because she actually believed Niall would have placed Gawain's happiness ahead of getting what he wanted from the vampires.
"Barging into a room is not always the best way to see what you wanted to see there," Eric whispered into her ear, before kissing the lobe and walking over to push one side of the swinging doors aside.
Sookie entered and was met by happy smiles all around.
"Cousin!" Gawain bounced to his feet to greet the visitors. "Your Majesty," he added, with a nod to Eric.
"Bellllllla, Belllllla!" Ramon chimed in.
Esperanza stood without making eye contact with Sookie or Eric. She extended a hand to Ramon. "Posa't de peu, Ramon, tens visitants," she cooed.
"No, please," Sookie pleaded, not understanding what was spoken, but seeing Ramon's reluctance to be pulled up from his toys, despite Esperanza's efforts. "Do you mind if I join you?" She was swiftly cross-legged on the floor beside Ramon, who had yet to respond to Esperanza's request for him to stand.
Esperanza wilted back down, still not making eye contact. She was clearly uncomfortable sitting in the presence of formal guests. Her world consisted almost wholly of Ramon, though Gawain was beginning to make inroads.
"If you please?" Gawain said to Eric, smiling brightly and gesturing to the empty space beside Sookie.
I do not please, he thought. It was one thing to spoil your children, but quite another to wallow about on the floor with them. He hadn't done it with his own, and he had no intention of doing it with Ermessen's. He moved behind Sookie, rather than beside her and dropped into a sort of crouch, balancing on the balls of his feet. Thus he was low enough to be seen as part of the group, yet out of reach of the blocks, so he would not be called upon to contribute to the building.
"I assume you have heard I am to make my residence here for the foreseeable future?" Gawain asked Sookie, as he made himself comfortable beside Esperanza.
"I'm so sorry for that, Gawain," Sookie replied, her guilt and regret clear in her voice. "It was never my intention for anyone else to end up paying for my actions, but I don't think there's anything I can do to get you out of it."
"I am perfectly agreeable to the arrangement." Gawain was answering Sookie, but his eyes never left Esperanza. When he finally did look at Sookie, his grin had taken on a playfully wicked appearance. "I have been given a lovely suite. My hostess keeps quite a cozy dungeon."
"She isn't keeping you in a cell?!" Sookie shrieked, causing Ramon to begin chanting something in Catalan and clapping wildly to add to the general volume.
"A cell?" Esperanza questioned, looking up for the first time.
"Certainly not!" Gawain assured them. "My rooms are more than adequate, and not at all cell-like."
"Your rooms are very nice," Esperanza said softly, stretching a small hand tentatively toward Gawain. "They're so bright and colorful, so many silks and mirrors."
"Silks and mirrors?" Sookie asked, a hint of reproach entering her tone.
With Eric grinning at him from over Sookie's shoulder, Gawain stiffened his neck and replied. "There is no need for you to concern yourself over my comfort. My hostess extends courtesy and accommodations with tremendous generosity."
"Ermessen will not breach the settlement," Eric said with a confidence that defied contradiction. "Your contentment was an implied, if not specified condition."
"I do regret that she closed the grotto," Gawain added sadly. "Filled it right over with cement days ago."
"Hardly unexpected," Eric said. "Should anyone decide to drop by to check on your condition, she would want them using more; shall we say, conventional methods of entry."
Gawain laughed and was compelled to agree. "Yes, there are times when using the front door is the thing to do."
There was little more than an hour before sunrise when Sookie and Eric said their final good-byes and retired to their suite in Ermessen's Spanish villa for the last time.
XXXXXXX
Dressed only in a tightly wrapped towel, and dripping wet from an interrupted intimate shower, Eric responded to the light rapping on their bedchamber door with little grace. It was the end of their evening. All their goodbyes were said, and what was left of the waning night belonged to them. Whoever he found on the other side of the door was a thief, come to steal moments he'd planned to spend relaxing with his lover held close in his arms; moments he had no intention of parting with happily.
It was Don Rafael, and he appeared no more pleased to be here than Eric was to receive him.
Eric opened the door barely enough to expose the entirety of his body, and made no move to step aside. If Don Rafael expected an invitation into the room, he would be sorely disappointed. "How curious you should choose this hour to call upon the room where my Queen takes her leave."
"Spare me your curiosities, Norseman. It is not your Queen I seek." Don Rafael's scowling expression matched his demeanor, which was markedly more disjointed than usual.
"Indeed?" Eric responded, without a trace of good humor. "I cannot describe my relief."
"Yes. It is difficult to depict with words, that which does not exist." Don Rafael's steady glare did not falter. "The ancient Pythoness requested I convey a message to you before you leave Spain."
Though several scathing retorts came to mind, Eric held his tongue. Had the Pythoness asked something of him, even something as menial as seeing a message delivered, he would have instantly complied. Somehow, defying her would never have occurred to him. "What is the message?"
Don Rafael produced a small sheet of parchment paper, neatly tri-folded and sealed with an image of the Temple at Delphi fixed in pale yellow wax. "The message is not for me. It is yours. I am but the conveyance. If you would be good enough to take possession of her note, my part in this transaction will be fulfilled and I will importune you no further."
No more words, only the paper was exchanged between them, and Don Rafael was gone.
"Who was at the door?" Sookie asked as Eric closed the door. She'd come out of the bathroom dressed in a simple, white terry bathrobe, and Eric suspected, hoped, nothing else.
Eric held up the note. "Don Rafael brought me a note from the Pythoness."
"What does it say?" She came to his side and slipped an arm around his waist, before peering at the paper in his hand. "Open it."
"Yes, of course," he said with a half smile as he cracked the hard wax seal between two fingers. The note was upside down when he opened it and when he passed it to his other hand it was no longer within Sookie's line of sight.
The message, written in the perfectly formed block letters of one who learned to write them after losing their sight, was brief and to the point.
"Protect her well, Eric. She is our future."
There was no signature, but none was needed. Only one used the Delphi seal.
"Well?" Sookie questioned. Her transformation to vampire had done little to improve her lack of patience.
He did not answer. He simply handed the note down to her. Something about the words set him on edge.
Sookie's brows furrowed and concern wrinkled her nose. "Protect me from who?" She asked, looking up at Eric for comfort.
"Whom," he responded without thinking. His mind was occupied on matters beyond her dislike of having her grammar corrected. She assumed the message referred to her. A reasonable assumption, considering she'd been the center of attention in vampire circles, since they arrived in Europe. Any unauthorized reader coming across the message would assume the same. No doubt this was by design, the deliberate intent of the writer.
Sookie's presumption about the message confirmed Eric's suspicion. The message definitely did not refer to her. To whom then? I wonder if the oracle realizes the extent to which the females of my acquaintance outnumber the males? A ridiculous question, of course, the Pythoness clearly expected him to be able to deduce the answer without further comment or affirmation from her.
"From anyone who would dare to pose a threat," he responded, looking down at Sookie and cupping her cheek in his hand. "A duty I consider my greatest honor and privilege."
He knew it was impossible for his wife to remain angry with him when he chose to be charming. The smile he offered her now served him well. The grammar lesson faded from the forefront of her memory and she smiled back at him.
His confidence in the Pythoness matched hers in him. He trusted that he would know the full meaning of her message when it was important for him to know. For now, he would hold his lover through the bright overlight hours. Tomorrow they would rise in Milan, leaving Spain and these troubles behind them, if only for a while.
XXXXXXX
"Are we in a museum?" Sookie asked upon waking. It was a ridiculous question, of course, but the more she looked around, the more she realized she was only half kidding.
Her eyes had been open only seconds, but already she knew this was the most opulent place she'd ever seen, gaudy, but beautifully so, not garish like The Oubliette in Vegas. The ceilings were so high they might have been in a ballroom and everywhere she looked there was dark wood furniture, and gilt accents. She let out a giggle as she wondered how many leprechauns forfeited their pots of gold to create this room.
"Welcome to Milan, my love, the city where extravagance knows no boundaries." Eric chuckled softly and turned back to Heller, who was standing in the half-open doorway. "Track the package and notify me when it is signed for."
"I will see to it," Heller answered. "Will there be anything else before you go out?"
"Tell Oliver, Mina, and whoever else is accompanying us, we will be leaving in half an hour. No car. The club is close enough to walk, even in heels, and Milan is best experienced on foot."
Heller nodded silently and disappeared into the adjoining room, closing the door as he went.
"I should have told him to send for Karen," Sookie said, swinging her legs over to sit on the side of the massive bed and focusing on Eric. He was a vision in his forest green shirt tucked into pitch-black jeans.
"She is right outside the door," Eric responded with a grin, quickly crossing the room to gather her up for the evening's first kiss. "A good pet will anticipate her mistress's needs and be ready for them." He returned her to her seated position and went back to the door. When he opened it, there was Karen, beautifully dressed in a snug, scarlet dress and already loosening the pretty blue ribbon she wore around her left wrist.
"Your Mistress is waiting for you," Eric said as he stepped into the sitting room and held the door for Karen to pass through.
Karen darted into the bedroom, leaving Eric alone with Oliver. "Do not leave her. I will be back shortly," Eric instructed before leaving.
On his way to the elevators, Eric crossed paths with Mina in the hall. She'd always been an attractive, if somewhat meek human. In her new form, the restoration of a Maker's connection had worked wonders for her. She now moved with the all the grace and confidence of a vampire. He liked her better this way. "Feed, if you have not, then see to your Mistress until my return."
Eric did not stop, or even slow down appreciably, so Mina didn't answer. She simply nodded in his general direction as he breezed by.
Upon reaching the ground floor, the elevator opened into an alcove off the expansive lobby. Eric bypassed the reception desk, choosing instead to go directly to the concierge.
The man he found on duty tonight standing behind a semi-circular desk was impeccably dressed in a well tailored black evening suit and pale blue silk shirt, the crisp French cuffs adorned with modest, yet attractive, sapphire cufflinks. He was on the phone, arranging opera tickets for another guest of the hotel. He abruptly ended the call when he noticed Eric approaching.
Eric spoke as the phone was clicked into place in its cradle. "I am-"
A wide smile spread across the face of the concierge. It would seem too wide, was the face accommodating it not so broad.
"Your Majesty! I recognize you, of course," the man interrupted in heavily accented, yet near perfect English. "It is my business to know the names and faces of all our most distinguished guests. Will you be going out? Shall I call you a car? Will your beautiful Queen be accompanying you? If she prefers to remain here with us, I assure you, we are prepared to see to her every requirement and desire."
"You will not be burdened with my Queen's desires, sir, and at present the only requirement you need concern yourself with is news of any messages or packages which may have been left for me."
"Nothing for you at the desk," the concierge replied with businesslike efficiency. "But I was handed a note only seconds ago that the gentleman there," he gestured to a male vampire sitting alone on a sofa near one of the windows facing the street, "would be seeking an audience with Your Majesty, at your earliest convenience."
Eric looked at his visitor and spoke to the concierge. "What is your name, sir?"
"I am Aldo."
"That will be all for now, Aldo. Someone from my staff will be in touch if I find myself in need of anything further." Eric walked away without another glance or thought for Aldo.
"Good evening, Cerino," Eric said when he reached the sofa. "It has been a long time.
"More than one hundred years," answered the olive skinned visitor with long raven hair tied in ponytail at the back of his neck. "Too long," he added, looking up with black eyes to match. "Is Appius with you? I need to speak with him as well."
"Appius is dead," came Eric's blunt reply as he took a seat in a chair facing the sofa. "Alexei as well. Any business you had with Appius, you may now conduct with me. I will be in town for the next few days to settle his affairs before returning to America."
"I doubt you will find many who will mourn your Maker's passing," Cerino said without the slightest note of regret or comfort in his tone. "Even fewer who will grieve the loss of the Russian abomination. Might I ask how they met their ends?"
"Justly. Each overstepped their bounds and were stopped, in the presence of witnesses. Appius committed his offence within feet of ancients and was ended by the Spanish Queen."
"Ermessen did it herself? Good for her. She will be heralded as a heroine, I'm sure, even if her actions do create something of a delicate situation for me."
"For you, or for Petrus?" Eric asked, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs.
"As his Ambassador, my King's problems are mine as well," Cerino answered with a friendly smile. "We will soon be embarking on what promises to be a rather expensive endeavor. Appius Livius was pledged to offset a substantial portion of the cost."
"I see," Eric said with a grin. "So news of Ocella's demise arrived before me and you are here to ask me not to take all his wealth with me when I go. You may assure Petrus his coffers will not suffer on my account. I have acquired wealth of my own. There are items Ocella held, which are of no intrinsic value to anyone in Italy. They are however, valuable to me. When I have taken them, Petrus can have the rest. His estates mean nothing to me."
Cerino leaned forward and lowered his voice. "You cannot be serious, my friend. You say you have amassed wealth. Such is to be expected over the course of a millennium. You now count a crown among yours. Imagine the fortune one could gather in twice your time. Your Maker's property is nothing to be passed over without thought. I have told you he possessed riches sufficient the vampire crown of Italy sought to be indebted to him."
Eric did not move forward. Nor did he bother to speak in whispers. "I do not need you, or Petrus, or anyone else to inform me of how well propertied Ocella was. I sincerely doubt any information you have in that regard would come as a surprise to me. On the contrary, before I leave Europe I expect you will be shocked at what I will turn over to your care and management."
"You mean, what you will turn over to the Crown?"
"To you, to the Crown, it is of little consequence to me. If I give over control of everything to you, and you in turn pass on all Petrus and his accountants know about to him, you will still be left with far more than you ever hoped to acquire as Ambassador of the Throne of Italy."
"You are testing my integrity," Cerino said with a light chuckle as he leaned back into the cushioned sofa.
"I don't give a damn about your integrity," Eric assured him. "And as for claiming his property, as you see, I have brought my wife and our entire party here to The Grand Hotel, not the palazzo.
Of course, I will visit there before we leave. I will retrieve those things which belong, to me, then I will pass you the keys and wish you luck. I have already prepared a list of monetary accounts. Those I will give you now, to attest to the truth of my intent." Eric reached into his hip pocket and produced a folded sheet of paper.
Cerino took the page offered to him, unfolded it. It contained a two-column list. The column on the left side of the page was a list of fourteen long numbers. The column on the right gave a bank name to go with each number. "Half of these banks are in Switzerland."
"I was his progeny, not his financial advisor. I was informed, not consulted about the location of his funds. If he pledged you a loan, I am confident the amount would not have exceeded what is available in these accounts."
"There are no balances listed."
"Nor do I keep a daily accounting of them. Suffice it to say, each contains a vast sum of money. There is another list, which I will provide to you before I leave. Now if you would be good enough to satisfy my curiosity, what is it Ocella was committing his financial support to?"
Eric thought he perceived a shudder run through Cerino before he recovered and answered.
"As I'm sure you know, Appius had an unusual fondness for past and present Russian lands. In his rather romantic view, Russia represented a sort of perfection. Since you make your home in America, you are probably unaware of the troubling vampire deaths which have been taking place along the Old Russian border for the last year or so."
"Any connection to the faerie problem we just dealt with in Spain?"
"Oddly, no. It seems the two things are an unfortunate coincidence. What little evidence we have been able to gather seems to indicate a vampire who has gone mad and is randomly killing other vampires.
Whoever it is, seems to be based in Ukraine, since the killings have taken place, for the most part, either within Ukraine or a short distance across the border. We believe it started near Ukraine's northernmost border with Poland about fourteen months ago. The bloodstained personal effects of two vampires were delivered to the King of Russia. By the time it was established who they were, another box of effects had been delivered."
"How many in total?" Eric asked.
"Twenty so far, though only eighteen sets of belongings have been connected to their owners. As yet, the victims have all been rural residents who did not socialize regularly with others of our kind. In most cases, it was not known they were missing until their property arrived at the court of the Russian King.
We are committed by mutual protection treaty to participate in the hunt. However, we do not wish to lose those we send. They must be well appointed and a large enough company to find safety in their number. This will be excessively costly."
Eric considered Cerino's tale for a moment. "As I said before," he said at last. "Even before hearing of your troubles, it was my intention to forfeit my claims on all but a negligible portion of Ocella's property. The gift is sufficient for you to send a well-equipped, small army to Russia or anywhere else you care to send them for an extended period. As I am returning to America in less than a week, I can offer you no further help on that front."
Now Eric did lean in and lower his voice. "However, in exchange for my generosity, you can provide me one small consideration."
"In my experience, when a man asks for something small, what he asks is rarely as small as he would have one believe," Cerino whispered.
"My wife has a weakness for the mentally challenged of our kind. She considers herself something of a patroness for them. I would appreciate it if she was not apprised of your Russian troubles. I do not want her doing anything foolish, like volunteering to accompany your hunting party."
Cerino laughed out loud, drawing stares from several people in the lobby, including Aldo the concierge. "Was your Queen a policewoman in her previous life?"
"No," Eric scoffed. "She was and remains one whose desire to render aide surpasses her consideration for her own safety. I wish to show her the tourist sights, send her shopping, make a short visit to the palazzo, and sign off on legal documents; nothing more. After which I will take my party and return home."
"Several ladies at court are anxious to call on your wife. I will see to it those who are well informed keep their knowledge to themselves," Cerino assured him.
"I can ask no more," Eric said. "Now if you will excuse me, I have promised to escort her and her ladies to Disegni Scuri. They wish to dance."
"An excellent choice," Cerino said approvingly. "No doubt you will all find an abundance of entertainments there. They cater to a broad variety of tastes, both human and vampire. I will see you again before you leave, I'm sure."
The two vampires stood in unison, the dark one heading to the front door of the hotel, the Viking back to the elevator to return to his waiting household.
XXXXXXX
Disegni Scuri, Dark Designs, Eric told her, was amazing. Sookie was most impressed with the lighting design. The dance floors were lit from above with dozens of spotlights in every color of the rainbow, some stationary and pointing directly down, and others were set back and moved in patterns around the floor. The bars were backlit by muted walls of colored light and a maze of pathways were marked with ribbons of softly glowing amber.
Yet despite this mass of lighting, that likely rivaled The Asgard in consumption, most of the tables seemed to be at least partially obscured in shadow.
There wasn't even the smallest similarity, but Sookie was reminded of Fangtasia. She missed Louisiana. Being a world traveler didn't suit her. She was a small town girl. She wanted to go home.
Before she could slip into a fog of self-pity, the music changed. A low droning moan crept into the air.
"Dragons," she whispered. She sloughed off the cape draped around her shoulders and handed it to her right. "Do something with this." She released it without a thought as to whether anyone was prepared to catch it.
She headed to the dance floor with singular purpose, her body swaying slightly as she strutted to the hard 2/4 beat, the crowd parting for her until she reached the center of the floor. She didn't need to notice or acknowledge anyone else to know every eye in the place had found it's way to her.
Eric moved quickly to fall in behind her, reaching the edge of the floor just as Imagine Dragons front man, Dan Reynolds released a ragged and labored breath through the speakers. Sookie spun a half turn to face him and dropped to a crouching position, almost as if she were a sprinter preparing to begin a race, or a spider alerted to new prey at the edge of her web.
Their eyes locked as he heavily marched toward her, her back rising and falling in rhythm to the music, her stance giving the illusion of heavy breathing. She watched as he closed the space between them, his hand extending abruptly as he reached her. She slapped her hand hard into his. He yanked her to her feet and grabbed her other hand, snapping her upright. In keeping with the character of the dance, they glared at one another. She pulled away from him, but he held her tight in the rigid frame his body created around her. With all the beauty and graceful violence of a lightening storm, he guided her through several bars of pasodoble steps, never losing eye contact, before flinging one hand loose, sending her into a spin controlled only by the grip of his fingers on her other hand.
~~ it's a re – vo – lu – tion I suppose ~~
On her forth turn; she sensed more than saw his right hand slip to her waist. He released her with his left as the small of her back brushed his right.
She trusted him completely and gave herself over to him utterly, dropping backwards like a dishtowel, until she was almost folded in half over his hand. One gaping onlooker commented on how it looked as if he was going to begin doing rope tricks, but she wasn't a rope. This was a pasodoble. She was a cape.
Having halted Sookie's spin, Eric began his own, much slower turn, scooping her off the floor and brandishing her in a serpentine pattern before him. With each quarter arc he raised her higher, until she seemed to be hovering over his head. It was time to see how many onlookers could be made to scream.
~~ this is it ~~ the a – po – ca – lypse ~~ whoa-oh ~~
The hard, driving beat of the bass drum was hypnotic, even without the rhythmic display going on at center stage.
~~ I'm waking ~~
Unseen by anyone, the fingers of the hand holding Sookie aloft spread wide.
~~ up ~~
In less than an instant, Eric stopped turning. Sookie was inverted and being propelled downward, toward the floor.
Convinced they were watching a woman being slammed into the floor, a chorus of horrified gasps, punctuated by a few of the anticipated shrill screams, rose up from the witnesses.
The singer assured his listeners he felt it in his bones, just as Sookie came within inches of the hard floor, before being brought safely upright and back into hold, giving their new admirers another opportunity to watch them strut together; still in perfect rhythm, and still appearing oblivious to anyone but each other.
As the song came near its end, Eric took Sookie by the waist with both hands and lifted. When she was as high as possible, he flicked his wrists and gave her a slight upward push, sending her into a midair spin. When she began to fall a second later, he caught her in the crook of his arm and nonchalantly slung her toward his shoulder.
~~ ra – di – o – ac – tive ~~
She wrapped her arms around his neck and let her body fall limp against his side. She was merely a cape, after all. The shoulder beneath her shrugged and she was shifted so she dangled down his back; her arms around his neck, wrists crossed between his pecs.
~~ ra – di – o – ac – tive ~~
He walked from the floor, with Sookie draped over him, directly to their table, to the sound of cheers and wild applause. He never made eye contact or slowed his pace for any of them.
Before sitting, he grasped Sookie by the wrists and gently brought her around, settling her where he liked her best, in his lap. He took great pleasure in her happy smile. He sometimes forgot how much she enjoyed being the center of attention, when she could control the reason for it.
She nodded graciously to her fans before turning the full wattage of her smile to her husband. "I like Milan."
Finally, he thought, we have arrived at the Europe I intended for her to experience from the beginning.
"And clearly, Milan likes you," he replied with a killer grin.