Hello! I know, I know, it's been literal months. Almost half a year! I apologize, truly, but life just gets in the way sometimes. I've had a few semi-rude messages about my absence, and all I can say is that sometimes writing this story has to take a backseat to being a real person. I will absolutely finish this story, I promise. And thank you to everyone who has reviewed or messaged me with encouraging words or to just check and make sure I really wasn't dead. Sorry! I hope this chapter makes up for it!

Also, I know I mix some of the plot from the books and the TV show, but I usually go with what's easier to keep straight. The bloodline in True Blood was allllll over the place and I'm not a fan...so excuse the mixing and matching. I promise it's on purpose.

Please review, it makes me motivated!

Previously:

"My whole world has been turned upside down, Gran. Not long ago, turning into a wolf would have been the most outlandish idea I'd ever heard. And now, here we are, saying 'Just a wolf' as if it were no big deal."

Silence settled between us again, and I got up to refill my coffee mug. Gran declined more when I offered, seemingly lost in her own thoughts.

The quiet stretched for a few minutes after I sat back down, intent on finishing my second cup before tackling the dishes. The least I could do was clean up after such a great breakfast. Maybe I'd even sweep and mop the kitchen, too…

"Sookie," Gran interrupted my light musing, "Last night, you asked if I knew there were...other things out there." I nodded, waiting for more. "As you have probably gathered, I did, in fact, know there were...others."

My mouth went dry. "What kind of...others?"

We studied each other for several moments before Gran spoke. "Others that I probably should have told you about before, though I could never have guessed that Vampires were real, much less a threat…" She trailed off, her agitation clear.

"Gran?" I prompted.

"When I was a much younger woman, not more than a few years after your Grandpa Earl and I had gotten married, I was hanging up laundry when a stranger walked out of the woods. He was lost, he said, and had no idea how to get back to town. He was just...captivating, is the only way I could put it. From the moment he introduced himself, I knew I was a goner. He said his name was Fintan…"

Fintan.

The name rolled around my thoughts, over and over, as I scrubbed at the kitchen floor. The yellow dinginess that comes with age didn't have a single hope of being wiped off, but I was sure giving it my very best shot.

Fintan Brigant.

The morning was certainly full of surprises; Gran had been very forthcoming, and while I wasn't sure how to feel about everything she'd said, I did feel a little bit more at ease...and, if I was being honest, a little miffed at her.

Fintan Brigant, Fairy Prince.

I'd gone my entire life thinking that I was a freak, an aberration in my otherwise normal family. As far as I knew, no one else had any kind of defect like I did.

Well, I thought to myself, what I used to think of as a defect.

As I now knew, it wasn't a defect at all; just part of being something other, something not human. Gran's guilt was laced in her words, decades of it buried deep in her heart until now. She'd been an adulterer, she told me, falling into the arms of a beautiful stranger despite her love for her husband.

"He was just so...alluring, I suppose," she had sighed that morning. "I loved your Grandpa Earl, but I couldn't seem to stop myself."

I had kept my shields up tight, not wanting to see these particular memories. I had been a little surprised that I'd never heard a stray thought about this; but, considering the amount of shame she must have felt, it was no wonder she kept everything so tightly under wraps.

"We'd been trying for so, so long to have a baby. I thought maybe I was broken-in those days, we couldn't know for sure what was wrong-not like today, with all the medical advancements. Anyway, that one single time with Fintan Brigant was enough. It wasn't but a month or two later that I realized I was pregnant. Grandpa Earl was over the moon once I told him. He was so ready to be a daddy. We were both so happy.

"I hoped it was his, but I couldn't be sure." Gran had paused and took in a shuddering breath. Shame tinged her words heavily as she continued, "Fintan came again a few months after the first visit, when I was already starting to show a little bit. I was a trim woman back in my day, so it didn't take long. It seemed like he knew right away I'd changed. I don't know how he could tell-maybe it's just something his kind can sense-but he told me the child was certainly his."

She'd gone on to tell me about how he'd convinced her to drink a vial of a bitter, spicy liquid-to this day, she didn't know what Fintan had given her, only that he'd told her it would protect any of their descendants who inherited the 'Fairy Spark'.

It wasn't until after I started showing the first signs of being 'off' that she realized I'd been the first to inherit that Spark; the telepathy, apparently, was the protection.

"Both your father and your Aunt Linda were beautiful children, and they were both Fintan's. Your Grandpa Earl never knew they weren't his; not a soul aside from me and Fintan did. He told me before Corbett was born that our baby would be attractive, that normal humans would just be drawn to him. I believe that's why your mother was such a jealous woman; she was a weak-minded person to begin with. His Fairy side just overpowered her to the point of distraction."

I gripped the rag in my hand tight as I scrubbed harder at the floor. Memories of my mother always made me tense. She had hated me, it was always in her thoughts. It was true that she was a jealous woman—Daddy could hardly speak to the cashier at a grocery store without a fight. She couldn't even stand for Daddy to interact with me. He had loved me, it was true, but his love was tempered by her need to have him all to herself.

"Corbett and Linda were both beautiful, lovely babies, and they never lost a bit of their charm as they got older," Gran had continued, "Fairies were just naturally alluring, Fintan warned me, and it was a latent trait that would be passed down through the family until his blood was diluted enough. The chances of a baby being born with the Spark would grow weaker with each generation.

"Fintan was only a half-Fairy, so I assumed it would only take a generation or two for it to die out. When your brother was born—another beautiful, but seemingly normal, baby—I was hopeful. Then Hadley came about, just as normal as your brother, and I felt relief. I didn't know what to expect of a baby that had the Spark, and I had never gotten around to asking. All I knew was that a magical baby would be mighty hard to explain, and I'd hidden my infidelity for decades...I suppose I was just scared.

"And so, when you were born, another gorgeous little thing, I didn't even think on it anymore. We'd had four human babies in a row; surely the chances of anything manifesting had died out by now. It wasn't evident until you were close to two years old that I started to think you might have inherited the Spark.

"As a baby, we all just assumed you were extremely fussy. It was hard to get you to sleep, probably from all the barrage of thoughts you had no hope of stopping," Gran's eyes had misted with tears, her wrinkled hand reaching out to cover mine. The contact had amplified her thoughts of guilt, ironically, but I had appreciated her gesture all the same.

"When you were starting to speak more, you were responding to questions no one had asked, talking about things no one was supposed to know, that sort of thing. That's when I knew you had the Spark, but I hadn't seen Fintan in decades and had no idea what to do about it. So I just let you be, hoping nothing else would surface.

"Your mother had a strange fascination with you, it was evident. The whole town did." Gran had paused, thinking. "Well, they still do, I suppose. The Fairy part of you just draws them all in, but your telepathy…the 'otherness' of you, it just pushes them all away. It hurts my heart, Sookie, to see it. I live with the guilt every day." Her voice had wobbled and become thick with emotion, tears beading up in her eyes. "I did this to all of you—Jason and Hadley may not have the same burden to carry as you, but I'm convinced that if they had to get by on more than just their looks, they'd be hard-working members of society.

"As it is, well…Hadley's gone, and you know your brother." Gran had sighed, a lifetime of regret packed into that one little breath. "I'm grateful, at the very least, that you have a good head on your shoulders. Whether it was forced there or not, I'm grateful."

We'd sat at the table a little longer, the two of us simply sitting silently in each other's company. I couldn't honestly tell her it was alright, that I wasn't angry, that I didn't blame her; I did tell her, though, that I loved her, and it would be alright one day. I was angry at my lot in life, but I couldn't be angry that her actions had made me possible. Gran had been my only champion in life, the only person who was never repulsed by me even just a little bit.

Well, until recently, anyway.

I sighed and sat up, throwing my rag on the ground. It hit the tile with a wet 'splat!', scattering soapy water droplets over the fabric of my leggings.

Did Eric only find me attractive because of the Fairy blood?

Everything I knew about him pointed to an obvious 'yes'. It was kind of a double-hitter for him, because not only was he drawn in by natural allure, but my ability was only a bonus for him. Since he, himself, wasn't human, what did he care that I had a weird power? He sucked blood, I read thoughts. He could fly, too.

But, still, it rankled me to know that was it. It wasn't my personality, sense of humor, or my conversation that drew him in. It was just my stupid Fairy blood.

Well, it doesn't matter, I thought morosely as I stood and started putting away my cleaning supplies. I'm not seeing him again, and that's for the best. I need to get my life back on track. I need to figure out what to do about a car, what to tell the police about why I've been gone, I need to make sure I still have a job…

I decided to tackle that bit first; I needed to go to Merlotte's and see Sam. I knew he'd either be at the bar or in his trailer right behind it. Stretching, I headed toward my bathroom to take a shower, leaving a sparkling kitchen behind me.

I slid behind the wheel of Gran's car-a little nicer than mine had been, but still fairly old—ready to face Sam. I was nervous about his reaction, nervous to ask him about his otherness, nervous to see if I'd lost my job (through no fault of my own), but mostly nervous that I'd forgotten how to drive in the handful of days I'd not been able to.

Just like riding a bike, I thought to myself as I pulled onto the backroad that would lead me into Bon Temps proper. Maybe everything else will be just as simple.

It wasn't a terribly long ride into town, but I did live on the outskirts of it. The only other house out this way was the abandoned Compton residence. Old Jesse Compton had died about a year back with no living relatives to pass it on to. It just sat there crumbling to dust.

Which is why I was on alert the moment I noticed a car following mine.

My fingers tightened on the wheel as I let my shields down. The windshield was too dark for me to see inside the car, but I could count three brains that I immediately could identify as Weres.

Oh, shit.

I couldn't get anything intelligible, and while it may have just been a coincidence, I wasn't taking any chances. I sped up a little, my heart constricting when I saw they did, too.

No, no, no. Not today.

I pushed the gas pedal down further, wishing the old car had more get-up-and-go. The shinier, newer, faster car was getting closer every second, and I was straining to make out any clear words that I could from the minds inside while still watching the road so I didn't crash.

I finally caught one bit of a sentence—just hit her—before the car behind me accelerated faster than I could react. Our bumpers collided, and I held on for dear life as my car spun out of my control. To my credit, I barely even screamed, I was so focused on not dying.

The front of Gran's car smashed into the ditch on the side of the road, and I wasted barely any time collecting myself before I was pushing past the released airbag and bolting out of the car. The three psychopaths who'd tried to kill me were hot on my heels, however, and I thanked God I'd put on my tennis shoes before I left the house.

I ran into the woods on the side of the road, trying to put as much space between us as possible. I didn't think I could make it to civilization in time, but I had to try, damnit.

I'd only gotten a few hundred yards in before I started hearing heavy footfalls. Desperation lengthened my stride as my arms pumped, hoping against hope I could lose them. Or maybe they'd fall into one of those holes that always seem to pop up in cartoons, the ones covered with leaves and dirt so you don't see them until you're already at the bottom.

I smiled a little at my own thoughts, one that was quickly wiped away when two burly arms snapped around my waist and lifted me up. Immediately, I started screaming and kicking my legs wildly, struggling fruitlessly against the sweaty, hairy arms.

Gross. Eric's arms are much nicer—oh! Eric!

I stopped struggling so hard, remembering how useless it was against Eric when he'd taught me some self-defense.

Almost like he knew.

I went limp in the guy's arms, and I felt his chuckle through my back as his arms loosened just a little.

Just enough.

Gotcha.

I smashed my head behind me, thankfully catching him in the nose and hearing the sharp 'crack!' of bone breaking. I brought the heel of my shoe to the vicinity of his groin, kicking a couple of times until I hit my target and felt him double over in pain. He dropped me to the ground, and I was off again, his two friends hot on my heels.

Even with adrenaline on my side, I only got about thirty more feet before I was tackled to the ground. This guy felt bigger than the last. His meaty hands held me face-down by the shoulders, his knees caging my legs so I couldn't kick at him. Still, I struggled, screaming for help as loud as I could. As soon as I paused to inhale, a scrawny hand appeared with a rag—the third guy, maybe? —and pressed it against my nose. It was too late to stop myself from breathing, even though I had an idea of what was in the rag.

My struggling got a lot tamer before everything started to get dim around the edges, both anxiety and calm blanketing me to unconsciousness.

ERIC

If I had a heartbeat, it would be erratic right now.

I breathed deep, scenting the air as the three of us walked up the pathway leading to Edgington's mansion. The smell of Vampire, Were, and freshly cut grass was heavy on the breeze. There was no moonlight, as it was the night of the new moon, but floodlights kept everything aglow anyway. I could feel Pam's admiration for the impeccably manicured lawn and the overall beauty of the building—I didn't know whether Edgington had bought or built this home, but I couldn't deny the elegance of it. Even the Vampire guarding the front door was attractive.

"Hello," She purred, her eyes flicking over Pam, Godric, and I with lightly veiled interest. Full, painted lips perked into a smile, small fangs peeking out.

A baby Vamp? Suspicious.

"Hello," Godric murmured back, his face unmoving. "We request an audience with King Russell."

The guard tilted her head sweetly, the brown waves of her hair moving with her. "Is that so? Do you have an appointment?"

"No," I chimed in, giving her my best smile. Her smirk deepened as she gave me the once-over. "Do you think you'd be able to…squeeze me in?"

My suggestive words seemed to work on her. "I think I might be able to do just that," She replied, her tongue flicking out to wet her lips. "Give me a moment."

The baby Vamp was gone for only a handful of seconds before she was back in front of us, the door suddenly open. "Follow me," She answered, looking decidedly less flirty and much more pouty.

Even more suspicious.

The bond between the three of us hummed with caution; we all knew something was up. More than ever, I was grateful that I hadn't brought Sookie.

They must know, I thought to myself grimly as our guide ushered us from the elegant entryway into an opulent sitting room. The wall to my left was completely made up of built-in shelving filled with books. A large desk was situated on the opposite side of the room, three empty chairs surrounding it. Directly in front me, despite the heat of summer, the man I knew to be Russell Edgington was warming one hand over the fire crackling in the hearth, the other swirling a glass of blood, swaddled in a red smoking jacket.

"Thank you, Felicia, that will be all," He drawled in an unnaturally Southern accent.

The baby Vamp—Felicia—swept into a bow before retreating, presumably to take up her post at the front door. Edgington turned and glanced at us, though he looked drawn and tired in comparison to the photos I'd seen of him. Even in my vague memories of him, he looked better.

"Welcome to my Kingdom," He smiled pleasantly, swirling his glass. "What can I do for you?"

Silence lapsed for a moment before Godric spoke. "You were expecting us."

Edgington chuckled. "Well, yes, I was, Godric of Gaul; Eric the Northman; Pamela Ravenscroft." His ancient eyes swept over each of us in turn, seemingly at ease even in his weakened state. "I received a…little tip that you were on your way. And other little tidbits of information to boot."

The smile curling his lips was pure malice, evil in a way even I hoped to never be. "And what, pray tell, would those bits of information be?" I asked nonchalantly, one eyebrow raised in question. If our ruse was over before it even it started, I had absolutely nothing to lose by asking.

"Oh, well, this and that. You know how Weres are," He chuckled, taking a small sip from his glass. Warning bells started ringing immediately at the mention of Weres; had Alcide and Debbie come here, as we'd thought? I figured it was a strong probability, but the reality of it was still…terrifying.

How much had they told him?

Edgington sipped again. "It's quite the coincidence you've come tonight, when there's no moon. It's almost as if you know I use werewolves as soldiers." He paused and grinned. "Yes, very strange indeed that you'd come on the one night they're at their weakest."

I could feel the three of us tensing, waiting for whatever trap Edgington had set to be sprung. He was being much too coy to not have something in the works. We'd walked right into it.

All for my own selfish vengeance.

"Luckily for me, however," He continued cheerfully, draining half of his glass in a single gulp, "I have the foresight to give my best, most loyal pawns my blood to keep them strong, just in case something like this pops up." His evil grin got bigger as he swirled his glass, over and over, unblinking eyes boring into mine.

Pam scoffed. "You bled yourself half-dry to feed mongrels? I wouldn't call that foresight, I'd call that fucking stupid."

She had a point; blood was our strength. If he'd drained himself, that meant he would be a much easier target. Surely, we could get through his blood-fueled Weres, even if only for a few moments. That would be enough time to drive a stake through his heart…or rip it out and crush it.

Russell, however, was unfazed. "Well, my dear, you may think so, but I'm the ancient one here, not you. I've kept myself alive for longer than your maker could even fathom." He stalked closer to my Child, reaching a weathered hand out to stroke her hair. Pam snarled and snapped her fangs at him, before he pulled away and chuckled.

His glass kept swirling, swirling, swirling, and as he passed by me, the familiar scent in the glass hit me with full-force.

Sookie.

My face must have betrayed me, because he laughed even louder. "Oh, Northman, you do not disappoint! Even diluted, you can smell your Fairy's blood!"

Fairy?!

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I snarled, enraged beyond words.

How did he get her?

I felt my own failure washing over me, knowing he had her. Where was she? He was drinking her blood, something my inner beast found completely unacceptable.

How dare he?! I bared my fangs at Edgington, enraged beyond belief.

"Miss Stackhouse is truly a rare vintage. When I heard she was a telepath, I just knew I had to have her. An ability like that can't go to waste, now, can it? And I certainly couldn't let her stay in your custody…although my Weres tell me you released her last night." His nasty smile made a reappearance as he continued in his monologue. Pam, Godric, and I stood rooted to the spot, waiting for my ancient nemesis to make the first move. We may have walked right into a trap, but there was no sense in acting rashly.

"Yes," he continued, swirling what was left of Sookie's blood around and around, "I just couldn't let her slip through my fingers…and imagine my surprise when I first had a whiff of her delicious scent! Too weak to be pure Fae, but nonetheless, I knew I had a Fairy on my hands."

Fairy. A Fairy.

I'd encountered a scant few Fae in my time on Earth, though they were always at a distance. I knew they were especially sweet, the most prized delicacy a Vampire could encounter. I'd never tasted one…until Sookie.

My Sookie. He has her.

Sookie's bloodline forgotten, I turned my train of thought back to her actual whereabouts. "Where is she?" I gritted out, my teeth grinding together.

He smiled again, a truly vicious sight, before draining every last dreg from his glass. "Why, she's here, of course!" Placing the now-empty glass on the mantle of the fireplace, he clapped his hands twice and gazed expectantly, calmly, in the doorway behind me.

I turned on instinct, smelling her before I saw her; the natural scent of her skin mixed with a woodsy odor and topped with a hint of her blood. A burly, foul-smelling man carried my Sookie's unconscious body into the room, and with every soft exhale from her, I could smell vestiges of chloroform.

They'd drugged her.

My eyes dragged over her body, checking for any damage, and finding her wrist wrapped tightly in bandages.

My chest heaved with unneeded breaths as I fought to keep myself in check.

They hunted her down. Took her. Drugged her…And cut her.

I was growling; I could feel it in my chest, just as I could feel the caution and worry singing down the bond I shared with my Maker. Despite my best efforts at reigning in my rage, I could tell I was losing control.

I turned back to Russell Edgington, my fingers flexing slowly. Gone was his smile and genteel Southern demeanor; his countenance was the full-on ancient Vampire that I knew he was. Both our fangs were bared, my eyes shining with hate, his with insane glee.

I couldn't control myself anymore.

He hurt my Sookie.

A roar erupted from me as I threw myself forward.