Chapter 24:

PPOV

The enemy of my enemy was my friend? Not hardly.

Felipe had always been my enemy, even when he was my king. He was not a respectable vampire, undeserving of my fealty. And, to further signal his ineptitude, Felipe had placed too much trust in the pathetic thing that was Bill Compton. And look where it got him. Despite all of Compton's groveling, he had abhorred Felipe. And he had taken Felipe's kingdoms as soon as he went missing.

There were rumors that Compton was the cause of Felipe's absence, possibly his final death, but Compton was too much of a spineless fucktard. He was not capable of such maneuvering. Instead he had used the courts – mounted a legal argument, like a human would have. He whined his way through the entire case, and he had won.

Yes, Compton had been Felipe's enemy. But that did not fucking make him my ally, and he would never be a friend.

The enemy of my enemy was also my enemy. Ha! Wordsmithing. I had always enjoyed a smart turn of phrase. Or sexual innuendo. But sex and Compton were not words I would ever put in the same sentence – unless the sentence was, I will never ever ever have sex with that sick fuck Bill Compton.

Karin had told me of his "Sookie Shrine". On that day, he moved to the top of my short list, a list of vampires I intended to bring the final death.

He had never stopped stalking her throughout her entire human life. And what was worse, his obsession had not even been enough to claim the contract terms had been breached – to get Eric back, and out of Oklahoma. Because Compton had never threatened her, had never touched her. This was the opinion of the vampire counsel. The demon lawyer Catalaides had been morose when he told me.

Sookie had called the human authorities, and they had pretty much told her the same. Until he tried to hurt her, his actions were considered harmless. What a fucking broken system.

When Sookie was still alive, I did not know whether I should feel happy or sad that Compton never touched a hair on her head. I did not wish her harmed, but I had desperately wanted my master back. Now, I knew to feel happy about it. Because if Compton had hurt her, I might have gotten Eric back, but I would've lost Sookie to the mortal coil. I would not have gotten to feel the sunshine of having a connection to her.

Sookie is my child, and I love her, but damnit, is she like vampire crack or something? Bill, Felipe, my master – even me. We all had felt the pull, the magnetic force that was Sookie Stackhouse. She had brought light into our lives, and we were all addicted, to varying degrees. Compton was a "Sookie crack" addict – and what was worse is that he deluded himself into thinking he wasn't.

He truly believed he had her best interests at heart as he manipulated her all those years ago, during her human life. Fed her his blood so that he could control her, bend her to his will. Back in the day, it had amazed me that she could not see it, see him for the snake that he was. But I knew Compton's blood had a hold of her. It kept her mind from thinking clearly, from seeing the evil inside him.

But even through the blood haze Compton had forced her into, she had love for Eric.

Despite her protestations while she was alive, Sookie had always been steadfast in her love for him. She had always been his, from the moment she walked into Fangtasia, entered his undead life. His feelings also had been unwavering, even as he tried to deny them. Even as he made mistake after mistake in how he handled them – ignoring her in the hopes that the distance would lessen the hold she had on him.

The distance only made him more miserable.

In the beginning, I had been not-so-secretly jealous of the love Eric had shown to her. Because I was a brat, and I wanted my maker's attentions all for my own. My jealously disappeared as I came to the realization that he was hers, and that he had always been hers.

I was certain that they were a fated pair; that their souls were calling to each other, longing to be reunited.

I wanted Sookie in America, back with me. I knew her being close would warm my heart, dispel these feelings of despair. I craved her proximity. I was becoming anxious, unable to tolerate our distance. Had I not known better, I would swear that I had fallen victim to bonding sickness. But we had never bonded.

She had bonded with Eric. But that bonded had been severed for well over 100 years.

My blood ached to be reconnected with hers. I could not bring her back, but I could go to her, if Compton granted me a temporary leave of absence. And that's how I found myself in the presence of my enemy, the Louisiana King.