Eric's gaze was relentless. Having rumor of his gracious endowment broadcast to the cabin was enough to make him strut his tail feathers like a peacock in mating season.

He gloated.

Mark grimaced.

Hal marveled.

Pam grinned.

I chewed.

Doc rose and said, "We're descending already."

Abruptly, the gravity of our predicament set in. Clearly the vampires assumed we were bound for Spain. Thankfully, we were not.

Mark stood attentively and observed, "We traveled approximately 300 miles."

"Directly southwest," Eric confirmed, seeming to consult his internal vampiric compass.

All eyes shifted to Amanda.

"What?" She asked innocently, shrugging her shoulders.

With a single movement, Mark and Doc towered over her, making the cabin feel smaller than necessary. Neither looked pleased. Hal strained, with no avail, to pull Doc back to him. His efforts would have been better spent attempting to drag a boulder.

"Where are we going?" Mark demanded authoritatively, his eyes boring into hers.

She sat, unresponsive, her eyes never once slipped to Hal. I wouldn't classify Mark as livid, but he looked severely displeased. Vampires don't tolerate disobedience very well. It was one of the several reasons I was thankful that they couldn't bear children.

"Amanda!" Doc roared, done playing games. I was becoming frightened for her safety. Hal rotated himself in an attempt to block Amanda. In one swift motion, Doc gently swept him back.

She nodded in my direction. I wasn't certain if she was indicating that I was the reason she decided to remain silent, or if she was indicating that I knew our destination. I understood fully that Armando could make me talk, and that there would be another telepath. I understood that Amanda and Hal would be putting me further in danger by revealing their information to me, but this was annoying. I needed to know what was going on, and at that moment I cared more for my sanity than my safety.

"Clara, take Hal and Sookie into the other room." Mark ordered. Clara looked disappointed, not by the orders, but that she would miss the festivities. I realized that he was protecting us for our own good, but little did he know that Hal obtained all Amanda's information.

"No," I refused, sliding away from Clara, "I need to know too." She could haul me out, kicking and screaming, without batting an eyelash, but I was tired of being in the dark. Facing whatever came next would be easier with full knowledge of the situation, telepath or no telepath, Armando or no Armando.

Mark turned to me, his eyes gentle. I could sense his desire to sweep me up and coddle me, protect me, keep me safe from harm. It would pain him to put me further in danger, and he knew knowledge was a hazard with my current captor, his own brother. He nodded hesitantly in acceptance of my request. Clara backed down. Doc hugged Hal against him.

Visualizing a map centered on Shreveport, I pictured a 300-mile radius. Dallas is due west. Houston is south-southwest. Exactly southwest of Shreveport, 300 miles as the crow flies, was Austin, Texas. Home to Bevo, famed longhorn.

I turned to Eric, "Did Stan Davis move his headquarters to Austin?"

Eric and Pam shared some silent concurrence. It was significant to them that we were entering Stan's turf. He said, "Yes."

Mark and Doc did not appear to recognize Stan's name. I continued, "Armando said we were going to visit a friend of his. Perhaps he knows Stan Davis as Stanislaus Davidowitz." Now Mark and Doc shared a glance, a noteworthy glance that clearly confirmed my suspicion.

We were going to visit Stan Davis, king of Texas, and Barry Bellboy, fellow telepath.

Mark sat next to me, placing a reassuring arm around my shoulder. He wasn't being possessive, or attempting to alter my emotional state. I didn't lean in, nor did I pull away. I simply let him comfort me as we descended into Austin.

Eric's eyes flashed to me, full of disguised emotion. Perhaps he was waiting for me to shove away from Mark. Perhaps he was wondering how I obtained this tidbit of information on Stan. Hopefully Stan's former name was in Bill's database. In reality, I heard it from Stan's mind back in Dallas. If I could read vampire expressions, I would think Eric desperately wanted to communicate something. I couldn't read his expression, or his thoughts. Bill said Eric was likely forming alliances in adjacent states to resist against Felipe. Perhaps Stan was an ally. If so, why was Eric so unreadable and distant?

"Eric, is this good or bad for us?" I asked hopeless. The confidence I intended to portray was stuck in my throat.

"This," Eric waved his hand in indication of the Spaniards as a whole, his gesture ending on Mark, "is not good for us, Lover." He whispered Lover, his voice light, seductive, making my knees tremble. Lucky for me, I was sitting. Clearly Eric was turning my question into more than our flight destination. He knew the effect he had on me.

Mark scowled at Eric's term of endearment, and said mockingly, "Not good for 'us'?"

"Stop it you two!" I insisted exasperatedly, sick of their bickering over me. I had more pertinent matters at hand, namely a king wanting to use me as a pawn, or worse.

Amanda shot to her feet and jabbed a finger firmly in Eric's chest. Eric's pupils dilated as he let out a deep, terrifying growl. This was not going to be pretty, I thought. I hoped he left her with that finger. Perhaps that would be all that remained of her. She growled right back at him determinately. Amanda was one scary vampire when she was pissed.

"Listen up chum. This," she mocked his earlier gesture identifying the Spaniards in the room, "is damn good for you." She looked down to me and appeared to carefully select her next move. She continued her rant in Spanish, relentlessly, despite Eric flashing his fangs and deepening his growl. Pam jumped to his side, eyes wide in disbelief. Doc positioned himself in front of Hal, blocking him from the scene, his own eyes surprised by Amanda's words. Mark leapt to Amanda's side in a protective stance; he wisely dislodged her finger from Eric's chest.

I was the only one in the room not fluent in Spanish. They all knew this. Through gritted teeth I demanded, "What the hell is going on?"

Amanda stopped yelling. The room fell silent. I looked from face to face, all eyes diverted from me. The jet continued its descent, wheels extending in a loud mechanical thunk below our feet. I suddenly felt claustrophobic. My palms were sweaty, body trembling, the cabin seemed to close in around me.

Eric sat, looking down to the floor, his palms against his forehead. Mark slid Amanda to the opposite wall of the small cabin. Pam's fangs were down, her face grim, ready for battle. Somehow I got the feeling that they were not necessarily upset with Amanda, but rather at the information she shared.

I slid over to Eric. Mark's glance suggested that it was best to leave him alone, but I did what felt right and reached out for his shoulder. He didn't move away, but he didn't acknowledge my presence either. My voice came out hoarse and nervous, "Eric, what's going on?"

Eric didn't respond.

This couldn't be good, for us, for any of us.

Finally Pam whispered, "Fangtasia burnt to the ground, Sookie," the words barely escaping her throat. Eric remained motionless. She added, "We would have been inside, if not for…" Her words trailed off.

Unexpectedly, the jet touched tarmac, rebounding once before the breaks engaged. A tiny squeal left my lips. Out of fear, my hands clutched Eric hysterically.

The full realization of Hal's actions weighed down on me. He knew there would be an attack of some sort on Fangtasia, so he sent Amanda for Eric and Pam. This explains their sudden departure. Hal sent Mark for me, but Armando got there first. Armando must have known about the attack because I clearly remember noting there were no Spaniards in Fangtasia. He made certain his people were clear. This explains why Armando was adamant on taking me with him. This explains why Armando told Leif and Raven they were wise to jump the sinking ship. Did Armando setup an attack, knowing Felipe's top minions would be in Fangtasia? Was he teaming with Stan to take over Louisiana? Was bartering me some huge diversion to get all Felipe's top minions in town, to take them all out at once?

What would the king of Spain want with a poor state like Louisiana? Clearly, I was overlooking something. Did he anticipate that Eric would follow? Was I bait?

I looked over to Hal. He shrugged his shoulders, indicating that I knew as much as he did.

Eric hadn't moved. I fought back tears, fought the urge to grab and comfort him. A Viking warrior would find little solace in that. I released my grip on his arm. Sometimes silence is best, so I began to slide back to give him space. He quickly gripped my arm, pulling me back to him. He held my hand between his, looking down. His thumb stroked my palm. I squeezed his hand. He traced my fingers with his second hand.

He straitened and looked up at me, his eyes fraught with emotion. He reached out, ran his hand down my face, and attempted a reassuring smile.

A thick silence blanketed the room, making it difficult to breathe. The jet came to a complete stop, engines whirling down.

Eric stood and turned towards Mark. He avowed categorically, "She has been mine, and she will be mine again."

Mark stepped in, eye to eye with Eric, and said, "Sookie is not property. She will never belong to anyone but herself. She was never yours."

Amanda hissed in warning.

Eric and Mark froze. Suddenly, in unison, they turned to block me from the doorway.

They were too late.

Armando stood in the cabin, eying Eric with contempt, fangs extended.

His eyes darted to me, a smile curling up on his lips, "Actually gentlemen," Armando challenged, "She is mine. She belongs to me."

I gulped.

Mark and Eric shifted, edging closer to me. Armando raised an eyebrow and said, "Sookie came to me of her own accord. Three members of the Council witnessed the transaction."

Everyone turned to me, clearly waiting for me to refute his claim. Eric's eyes begged me to tell him it wasn't true. I looked up to Armando and said, "Felipe tricked me."

"My beautiful Sookie, tell it to the National Council." He looked from me to Eric to Mark and declared, "Sookie will leave with me, and she will do so freely."

"Absolutely not," Mark protested defiantly.

Armando grinned. He was clearly up to no good. Something in the pit of my stomach told me he was about to pull a rabbit out of his hat. Without looking from Mark, he said, "Sookie, it's for you."

"What's for..." before I could finish, a phone rang. On the second ring I located the cabin phone hanging on the wall in front of me. He motioned for me to answer, his triumphant grin relentless.

I stood and lifted the receiver to my ear. "Hello," I muttered.

"Miss Stackhouse," a man's tenor voice resonated. After a dramatic pause he continued, "I have something of yours. If you want it back, I suggest that you do exactly what my King requests of you."

There was an extended pause. I wasn't sure who this was, or what they had, but I didn't appreciate his threat. "No thank you," I snapped coolly, as if simply turning down a telemarketer.

An evil chuckle crawled through the line, "Now, Miss Stackhouse, let's be civilized about this. This is the last time I ask nicely. Will you do as he commands?"

"No."

All jovialness was tossed aside, his voice turned grave, "Have it your way, princess. I will cut the preliminary bullshit. You will do exactly as Armando commands. You will make certain your little friends do not interfere. And you will not attempt to escape. If you do these things for him, I will not kill your friend."

I stared at the wall. My mind flashed to Bill and Sam. He only said 'your friend', maybe it was a bluff. I couldn't risk it, I couldn't have Bill or Sam in danger. How could I ever keep Eric, Pam, Mark, Amanda, Hal, and Doc from interfering?

My silence was telling. He let out a sigh and added, "Ahh, you don't know who is missing, do you?"

"No," I whimpered, not certain if I wanted to know at all.

He chuckled, "I will put your friend on. But first, do you understand my terms?"

"Uh huh," I nodded desperately.

"Good girl. The ball is in your court," he whispered. I heard a rush of air, as he moved at vampiric speed. Background voices grew louder and louder. I heard conversation, the clanking of glass, laughter. A party? Finally he spoke, his voice distant as if the phone was held at arm's length. I heard him say, "Pardon the interruption, you have a phone call from the front desk."

I heard rustling as the phone switched hands. "Hello," a familiar jovial voice breathed into the phone. She repeated, "Hello?"

The line went dead.

I gasped for air, tears streaming down my cheeks. "No!" I cried into the receiver, before slamming it back to the cradle. It was Amelia. Her voice was jubilant. She didn't even know she was in danger.

Mark put a hand on my shoulder, "Sookie, what's wrong?"

I turned back to the room of people who had attempted to rescue me, tears clouded my vision. I turned my full attention to Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, repeating it over and over in my mind, using all remaining mental strength. I had to block Hal. If he knew, it would be easier for them to interfere.

"No, Sookie," Hal mumbled, his voice barely audible.

"Third time's a charm," Armando grinned. "My beautiful Sookie, do you want me to take you?"

"No," Mark answered. Eric moved to his side.

"Please," I sniffled.

"No!" Mark repeated. He grabbed my arms, pulling me into his chest.

Breaking down into a sob, I cried, "Let me go! You can't interfere, promise me." My words came out choppy and breathy, less confident and assertive than I intended. I returned to my mental distraction and pushed away from Mark.

Eric's eyes were wide and feral, pleading with me.

Suddenly Armando's entourage crowded the room, ushering me into the hallway.

I felt the tingling of mind-to-mind communication, but I mentally shoved Hal aside. Armando swept me up and loaded into an idling limo. He did not attempt to touch me. We sat in silence, the two of us, and I wondered what would happen to the others. I was the pawn in his game, plain and simple. The problem was that I had no idea what game he was playing, or who he was playing against. It wasn't Niall, Armando just figured out I was partial fae. It wasn't Eric, he didn't even recognize Leif earlier. Why was Stan Davis involved?

"Please don't hurt anyone," I pleaded through the silence.

He turned to me, and said, "If you do as I wish, I will do as you wish."

"I wish that you don't bite me or have sex with me, and that you leave my friends alone."

He let out a forced breath, and grinned, "And I wish that you abide me and not attempt to escape. Are we agreed?"

I had absolutely no reason to believe that he would stick to his word. Hesitantly, I said, "Agreed." What else could I say?

He nodded, his eyes studied my face.

After a pause, I added, "Why did you leave your lady-friends behind?"

"I didn't want you to feel uncomfortable,"

I snorted, very uncouthly, and whispered, "Said the man who bartered, kidnapped, and blackmailed me."

He chuckled, "Touché".

"Why was your lady-friend angry with Mark?" I didn't want to reveal that I knew Mazeika's name, or that it was the second time.

He leered, "She is loyal."

"Yeah, loyal to Mark," I mocked. She appeared more loyal to Mark than a stray puppy.

"I give them everything they desire. In exchange, they are loyal and obliging. I told them I wanted you as head mistress. Consequently, they will not permit another to take pleasure in you."

"I'm not yours. I will not be your mistress."

He scooted closer, at human speed, allowing me time to recoil. I pressed my body against the door. He leaned in and breathed in my ear, "Would making love to me in the flesh be so bad? You enjoyed our dream… multiple times if memory serves."

I turned my face to his, our lips only millimeters apart. In a rage I yelled, "What do you want with me?" My hands clinched in trembling fists.

He pulled back, his face softened. He had the audacity to look apologetic. "Are you scared of me?" he asked, as if the question was necessary. You could taste my fear in the air.

"Terrified," I admitted.

"Because I could do anything I wanted to you and nothing could stop me?"

I nodded, a tear running down my face.

"Yet, despite your fear, you left the protection of my brother and risked your life simply to save your friend?"

He didn't deserve and answer, but I nodded anyway.

"You also risked your life in Rhodes, running through an exploding building to save lives. Not only lovers and friends, you rescued people you didn't even know."

I looked up into his eyes. He suddenly looked harmless, friendly even. Yet, he wasn't touching me. I turned away. Why would he bring up Rhodes?

He took my hand and refused to let go, despite my tugging. I waited for him to attempt to alter my emotions, but he didn't. He said, "If you do as I request, I promise that you will be safely back in your home within 72 hours. Will you relax knowing this?"

"I would if I believed you. But I don't."

The limo pulled to a curb in front of a grand old Texas boutique named the Driskill. Like an affluent gentleman, Armando gracefully held out his arm and guided me into the arrogant and opulent massive marble lobby. I stood in awe for several minutes, tranced by the breathtaking stained glass dome overhead. I barely noted the other patrons, until a cool hand touched mine. I looked down to my arm linked around Armando's, his hand covered mine. He watched me, seemingly waiting for a response. It was only then that I noticed the concierge and her assistants. They too appeared to be waiting for my response.

I quickly scanned her. Armando ordered her to purchase clothing for me. He guessed I was a size eight, and had asked me for confirmation. She was waiting for my answer. She thought I was a size twelve, too meaty and too uncouth for a king. Bitch.

I smiled, "I'm a ten."

Armando smiled down at me, "A perfect ten, I should have known." A glint of humor in his eyes. Was he taunting the concierge? He addressed her without looking from me, "I expect that Miss Stackhouse's every request will be fulfilled during our stay. If she is not happy, I will not be happy."

Yikes.

She obliged, "Anything you wish Mr. Marquez." And from her thoughts, she truly meant anything he wished.

He didn't acknowledge her offering. Instead, with the flick of his hand, he dismissed her.

"It is beautiful, no?" he turned towards me, looking up to the ceiling. "You should visit my country. We have architecture that rivals any you have seen."

I stepped back, nearly falling over. Armando steadied me. Hal's mind was burrowing into my mine, even from miles away. I pressed my hands to my forehead, as if it were splitting in two. Hal was draining my strength, forcing through my mental barricade. Eric was tracking me, I couldn't stop him. If they found me, Amelia's life would be in jeopardy. I couldn't take that risk.

Armando whispered, "Is Hal communicating with you?"

Unsure how to respond, I confessed, "I'm blocking him, but he's too strong. It hurts." I needed Armando to know that I was not purposely guiding them here.

Armando gently wrapped his cool hands around my head, thumbs at my temples. He could crush my skull, or make me enter another dream with him. Instead, he took my pain. Hal was washed free. I couldn't feel Eric. The persistent background hum of my brain was suddenly turned off. I had never known pure silence until that moment. I scanned the lobby, absolutely nothing. I couldn't hear anybody. I listened to the concierge, focusing all my effort. Nothing. It was thrilling and terrifying at the same time. I wanted to laugh and cry.

"What did you do?" I gasped.

Armando guided me to the elevator, explaining "I turned off your communication. It is temporary."

We were escorted to a luxurious suite on the fourth floor. The foyer lead directly to a private balcony view of Austin's bustling entertainment district. The common area was complete with soaring ceiling, rich fabrics, and hardwood floor. The door clicked behind the bellboy. I turned awkwardly, realization of the situation trumped the stately elegance of the suite. It was our suite, just me and the king of Spain.

Sensing my fear, he took a step back. He motioned his hands to the two bedrooms and said, "Your choice."

I pointed to the bedroom on the left. For clarification, I added, "And you will be there, right?" pointing to the bedroom on the right.

He grinned, "Your choice."

With anyone else, it may have been cute or funny. With him, it was terrifying.

"Will your… lady-friends be here too?"

"I have an insatiable… apatite, shall we say. You can request that they stay elsewhere, or you can request your own room. Which would you prefer my Beautiful Sookie?"

I stomped off to my bedroom, alone. The lush bed was framed by a drapery of fine fabrics. The marble bath was complete with Jacuzzi tub, large stained-glass window, and marble shower and steam room. An emerald green silk nightgown and robe set were draped across the bed. A bouquet of orchids and chilled champagne decorated the foot of the bed. I stepped closer and spotted a chilled bottle of Royalty, and a basket of massage oils. I cringed.

"You will look lovely in this," Armando said, running his hand along the silk nightgown. He looked down at the Royalty and oils approvingly. His eyes flashed to me, excitedly, in anticipation.

I stepped away from him and screamed, "You agreed you wouldn't have sex with me!"

He moved closer, nightgown in hand. "And I won't, my beautiful," he said as his hand touched my shoulder.

The room went dark.

*