Addicted To Love

by BonTempsBaby

Sequel to "Pour Some Sugar On Me". Sookie and Eric come to terms with their new relationship. Very romantic, with more action in second half. Told from multiple POV's. Rated M for mature situations. Eric/Sookie/Bill/Pam

25. Chapter 25

Author's Notes:First, I want to ask you all to please bear with me. The updates are coming slower than usual because I am extremely busy at work, and also because some of the last reviews have knocked me off stride more than just a little.

As you all know, this is only my second story, and I wanted to challenge myself a bit, and therefore wanted to explore the true depths of Sookie and Eric's great romance. I have to admit to you all that I did not anticipate how deeply this turn of events would effect some some of you. The problem with the "serial" format is that the reader can't thumb ahead a few pages and relieve some of the tension by seeing that our lovers do come out of this ordeal stronger and more in love than ever.

After reading the reviews, I had a huge choice to make. Do I hurry through this critical part of the story, which brings about some needed and very important changes to Sookie's character (and to some extent, Eric's too) in order to make the readers happy? Or do I continue on the original path, and get it down right? I finally decided to stay the course and make the story the best it can be. For all of you who would rather not read anything sad, believe me, I do understand. Believe it or not, these chapters are very, very difficult for me to write, since I love them being together. (Ask my husband. I've been a royal PIA to live with since I started this part.)

This story will be MUCH more light-hearted and more suspense-oriented in the second half. I will even go so far as to tell you that you can expect a resolution to this current situation in Chapter 29 (or possibly 30, depending on the final length of each chapter). Some of you might want to hold off reading until then. I hope you don't, though, because you will miss some really cool stuff. By the way, while our lovers are still having problems, this chapter is not all that heavy... and it does contain some pretty good lemons!

~ BTB

P.S. The song that is playing in the bar later is "Breathe" by Faith Hill. I do not claim these lyrics as my own, I am just borrowing a line or two for the story.

Chapter 25

Eric's POV

As always, the next evening, I wake just before sunset. The moment my eyes fly open, I remember that brief spark of contact with my Bonded just before the sun rose at Valhalla and sent me to my slumber. Immediately, I try again, but unfortunately this time I get no response. The feeling that Sookie had heard me was vague at best, and perhaps it was just wishful thinking on my part... but no. I am certain I felt her, but perhaps she is sleeping just now and unable to "hear" me. I will have to try again later. To help satisfy my longing for her, I bring Sookie's pillow to my face, and inhale deeply, but of course Juanita has changed the linens and there is nothing of her scent left. Tossing it down, I roll out of bed, and head to the bathroom. I go into our closet to pull out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt to put on after my shower. Idly, I notice the new suit I had worn in Las Vegas hanging on the back of the closet door, where Bobby had left it after unpacking our things. There is a note attached in his handwriting asking Juanita to take it to the dry cleaners. I had instructed Pam to throw the white tuxedo away, knowing from experience that those sorts of stains will never come out. Something about that suit rings a bell... Oh. I go and stick my hand in the pocket, expecting to pull out the small box that holds Sookie's sunrise necklace. Instead, the first thing that my fingers touch feels like... lace. I fish out a wispy pair of Sookie's blue lace panties. I remember now, I took them off her in the limousine, and kept them as a trophy. I close my eyes, and replay that wonderful, erotic ride in my mind. I hold the tiny scrap of fabric to my face, and inhale. Although very faint, her smell is still there... her favorite perfume, combined with her very special fairy scent. Ah... her clothes. They carry her scent! I bound up the stairs, and rush to find the housekeeper. She is in the laundry room, tossing pieces of clothing into a large machine... I think it is a washer, but may be the dryer; I am unclear on which one is which. I command sharply, "Stop!"

She freezes and gives me a rather shocked look. She must have heard the seriousness of my tone, though, because she asks rather uncertainly, "Sí, Patrón? What can I do for you?"

Abruptly, I ask her, "Sookie's clothes...have you washed them?"

She looks startled that I would ask such a question and for some reason seems quite uncomfortable, but has obviously been well trained. Eyes downcast, she doesn't waste time asking questions, but promptly answers, "Sí, Patrón. In fact, this is the last load." In her hand is the very last item, the one that she was just about to put in when I stopped her. It is Sookie's white nightie, the one she wore in Las Vegas. It does not appear to be wet, so I must have stopped Juanita just in time. Without explanation, I cross the room, take it from her outstretched hand, and then leave. It is only once I have returned to my chamber that I realize that the little housekeeper must have been looking at me so strangely because I had forgotten to put on any clothes. For some unfathomable reason, humans are always so sensitive to that sort of thing.

Sitting on the side of the bed, I tentatively put the soft, smooth fabric to my face and inhale deeply. Instantly, I am rewarded by a satisfying whiff of Sookie's wonderful scent. It is heavenly, and instantly I find myself with a raging hard-on. Ah, this will never do! Instead of sitting around here with this poor substitute, I need to be on my way to retriev my little fairy from her cousin's house in Monroe. As I sit and stroke the small white garment, I think... should I call first and try to talk sense into Claudine? Or would it be best to show up unannounced? This time, I need to remember to show some serious restraint, no matter how hard it is. I have no wish to frighten them again, and need to show them both how calm and reasonable I can be. I will be the most charming vampire they have ever seen. Carefully folding the little panties inside the nightie, I stow them in my bedside table drawer. I quickly shower and dress, shove my money clip and cell phone in my pockets, and at the last minute, I take Sookie's phone as well. If she proves stubborn tonight, maybe I can persuade her to take it, and then agree to some further conversations with me. As long as the lines of communications are open, I know I have a chance to repair this mess. If I can only talk to her, I know I can make her see the truth. Even without the Bond open, I know she still loves me... she is still wearing my rings.

I have just turned out of the gates when my phone rings. It is Bill, who asks concisely, "Still no word?"

"No. I am headed to Monroe now."

"Do you want me to accompany you?" he asks, "I have discovered the location of Claudine's living quarters and have printed a map."

"No, I feel it is best if I do this alone," I reply, "Just give me the directions. Go to Fangtasia, and help Pam with any Kingdom business. Arrange for the repairs to Sookie's farmhouse... and also, begin the hunt for the Tiger. This time, I want no excuses."

After giving me directions, he says, "Eric... good luck." With that, he disconnects.

*****

A couple of hours later, I pull into the parking lot what appears to be a very upscale condominium complex. After a brief search, I locate her unit. Her car is parked in front, so I am hopeful they are here. I park in the empty spot next to hers and start to get out, but I hesitate. Perhaps I should call first, and speak to the Fairy. I had gotten her number at the time of Sookie's shooting, and so I pull out my own phone, scroll down until I locate her name, and then hit send. After a couple of rings, it goes straight to voice mail. At the beep, I say, "Claudine, this is Eric. I wish to speak to Sookie. I am sorry for startling the two of you yesterday, that was never my intention. I am in Monroe, and would very much like the chance to explain what happened in Las Vegas in person. This whole thing has been nothing but a horrible misunderstanding." Suddenly at a loss for words, I rather lamely finish by saying, "Call me back."

After disconnecting, I wait for a few minutes to see if she will return my call. I try my best to be patient, but finally cannot wait any longer. I get out of the Corvette, and head up to the front door. A porch light is burning, and there is some light spilling out of one of the windows. I ring the bell and wait. Nothing. Next I try knocking. Again, nothing. This time, I knock slightly louder, and call out, "Claudine, please! Just let me talk to her!" No response at all. Perhaps they are not here, after all. Having our Bond closed is driving me insane... I cannot tell if Sookie is near or not. I try a couple of more times, and just as I am about to give up, go back to the car, and wait for them to come back, I see the door to the next apartment over opening up, and a human woman emerges.

Even in the dim porch light, this female is short and extremely unattractive. Obviously middle-aged, she has her dyed-orange hair pinned up in round things which are partially concealed with a hideously ugly scarf. A pair of horned-rimmed glasses perch on her stubby little nose. She is seriously overweight, and unfortunately wearing a tight garment made of some soft stretchy fabric. As she walks, everything rolls and jiggles in a most fascinating manner. On the one occasion I had accompanied Sookie into Wal-mart, there had been a similarly garbed woman just in front of us. Sookie had taken one look at the female as she had undulated away from us, and whispered to me, "Wow! That looks like two cats fighting in a bag!" I suspect my Bonded would have a similar comment right now. The woman peers at me suspiciously, and in a raspy voice demands, "What the hell is all the racket about?"

I am unaccustomed to being questioned by humans, my temper flares immediately at her tone... but I realize that perhaps this woman can tell me a few things. With any luck, she may not even realize I am vampire. Concealing my true emotions, I take a step back out of the light, and flash her my most charming smile. "I am looking for Claudine. Have you seen her?"

The woman gives a loud sniff, and says in a surly tone, "Even if I knew, why would I tell you? I don't know you from Adam. You could be a serial killer, for all I know." (With dark amusement, I realize that she is accurate in that assessment, since technically speaking, I suppose I am a serial killer.) She continues, "Who are you, and what do you want?"

"My name is Eric, and my wife is Claudine's cousin,," I explain,"I think she is staying here, and I need to speak to her."

"So leave a note or something... just quit making so much racket."

So much for charm. Stepping closer to her, I stare her directly in the eye. After just a moment of looking into my intense gaze, her eyes begin to glaze over just a little. Some humans are very susceptible to our glamour, and this is apparently one of them. Soothingly I ask, "What is your name?"

In that unpleasant voice of hers, she replies, "Melba."

"Well, Melba, I would very much like to know if you have seen Claudine or my wife since yesterday evening," I tell her softly, "You would like to tell me that, wouldn't you?"

Suddenly compliant, she says, "You bet I would, you long drink of water, you! You want to come in?" She gives me a big wink, and giggles. The sudden transformation from curmudgeon to coquette is startling, and if I was not in such a bad mood and so anxious to find Sookie, it would be quite amusing.

Shaking my head, I say firmly, "No. Just tell me what you know."

"I saw Claudine leave for work this morning and then come home tonight at her regular time," she tells me obediently, "See? That's her car out there. I haven't seen anybody with her lately. She comes and goes a lot, though, and she has the strangest friends! It's a good thing she's so sweet, or I might not like her so much. Sometimes when she goes out of town, I water her plants. She always brings me nice presents when she comes back, too!" This last bit she offers enthusiastically, and then she sidles a little closer. She touches my arm, and then says, "Ooo! You are cool! Hey! Are you... one of them vampers? Are you sure you don't want to come in?"

Keeping eye contact, I reply, "No. Now, Melba, if you sometimes water Claudine's plants, does that mean you have a key? If so, wouldn't you like to let me in, so I can wait for my wife?"

Conspiratorially, she says, "Actually, I do have a key. Let me get it." She bounces inside, and is back in a flash. Without further ado, she unlocks Claudine's door, and yells inside, "Claudine, honey! It's Melba! You home?" There is no answer, and it is clear that no one is inside. She steps through the door, and I very much want to go in but need an invitation.

"Melba, ask me to come inside," I order. She blinks a couple of times, but then willingly does what I ask. Taking a step through the door, I take a quick look around. This is the first home of a Fairy I have ever been inside, and I confess I am somewhat curious. The unit is much more luxurious on the inside than it appears from the outside, tastefully decorated with beautiful and obviously costly furnishings and artwork. However, the best thing about the place is the smell. Judging from the strength of it, Claudine was here and not very long ago, either. Unfortunately, it makes me a little light-headed, and I get an erection... which makes me furious. That instinctual reaction is partially what got me in to this mess to begin with, and with an effort I clamp it down. Oddly enough, what I do not smell is Sookie. I want to check out the whole place, and see if I can catch any of my Bonded's scent at all.

Not wanting the neighbor to snap out of her glamour too soon, I pull her around by the hand as I explore the apartment. She follows me willingly, and once even reaches out a bold hand and pats my bottom. "Nice!" is her comment.

Sighing, I ignore her as I look around the bedroom we are currently in. Obviously this is Claudine's room. Some of the dresser drawers are slightly ajar, and judging from all the empty hangers it looks like some clothes are missing from the closet. I see no sign of any suitcases. It looks like perhaps Claudine has gone on a trip. I check out the guest room next, and there is no sign or scent of Sookie. I can only conclude that she has not been here. Where has Claudine stashed her? Are they together now? How am I ever going to find her? Melba has now graduated to hugging herself tightly to my arm. She tugs at it, bats her eyes at me, and suggests, "What's say you and me try out that nice guest bed there? I bet Claudine won't mind!"

I know for a fact Sookie would be extremely annoyed with me for killing Claudine's neighbor, so I do not even think about it... at least, not seriously. Shaking her loose as gently as I can, I command, "Melba! Now, look at me! Good girl. I want you to go home and go to straight to bed. You will sleep well, and tomorrow you will not remember meeting me. Now, go."

In a dazed voice, she says sleepily, "Okey-dokey, Eric the vamper. Good bye!" With that, she heads down the stairs and out the front door. I follow her, taking the time to lock Claudine's door. I take the keys back to Melba's and find her front door standing wide open. Shrugging, I toss the keys through the door, and they land on a chair. I pull the door shut, and head to my car.

After sliding into the Corvette, I sit in silence for a few minutes and try to absorb this disappointing turn of events. Obviously, Claudine has anticipated that I would show up here, and has taken evasive measures. She and Sookie could be anywhere. I can only hope that she checks her voice-mail soon, and responds. My sense of frustration is acute, and I can feel my irritation beginning to rise, but I do my best to tamp both of those emotions down. After my conversation with Dr. Ludwig, I know that without a blood exchange soon, the Bonding Sickness will be worsening. Any distance between Sookie and me will make it progress even faster. Like Pam, I can not bear for Sookie to be so ill again. I must find her, and soon, before the Bonding Sickness makes me unable to think and act clearly. I was already feeling its effects in Las Vegas, and although I had a decent amount of Sookie's blood a couple of nights ago, I can already feel the fog descending again.

In order to find her, I must put myself in Sookie's head. She is not really the type of girl to go far. No doubt, Luke would have been more than happy to take her anywhere she wanted to go, and yet, she came straight home. Who else in the area might possibly know where she is? A thought floats through my head, and I pull Sookie's phone from my pocket. Flipping it open, I scroll through her list of phone numbers. It is shockingly short, and only three stand out as possibilities. The most obvious is her former roommate Amelia, and I dial her first. I get voice-mail, informing me that she is in Mexico, and will not be back for several days. The second is Sookie's other cousin, Claude. Sookie is not all that fond of him, but maybe Claudine has talked her in to staying with her twin. Although his club is located in Ruston, I do not know where he lives. I try to call him, but it goes straight to voice-mail. I leave a brief message, but really have no expectation that he will return my call. Flipping open my own phone, I call Bill and set him to locating Claude's home.

I find I am too keyed up to sit still any longer, so I turn on the car and head west. After I have been on the road for awhile, Bill calls back. He says, "I can't seem to find where Claude lives. Apparently, that is by design. Even for a Fairy, he seems a little paranoid. You of course know where the bar is located, but this is Monday and it is closed. I already tried calling, but no one answers."

The third candidate on my list is the worthless shifter Merlotte. If I had not already sent Bill to Fangtasia, I could have him do some reconnaissance around the shifter's place. I decide that since I cannot do anything in Ruston until tomorrow night, I might as well go to Bon Temps and pay the shifter a little visit myself. I tell Bill of my plan. He agrees that it is worth a try, and in fact offers to meet me there. We will probably arrive at about the same time.

*****

A bit less than an hour later, I pull the car into the gravel parking lot of Merlotte's. For a Monday evening, the lot is fairly full. I pull into an inconspicuous spot near the side of the building and get out. Nothing much has changed since the last time I was here, which was several months ago. Before going inside, I want to check out the rest of the premises. Silently, I drift around the building and then over to the shifter's living quarters. I glide up on the porch and try to peer inside the windows, but the blinds are all drawn. Much to my disappointment, there is not the faintest whiff of Sookie, and somehow even with the Bond closed I feel as if I would be able to sense her presence if she were inside.

I head inside, and as usual, the minute I enter, a brief silence settles over the patrons. Somehow, although they seem to accept Bill as one of their number, and I am now married into one of the local families, I am obviously still regarded with suspicion... which is fine with me. Before long, they resume their conversations, and soon the din is back to its former level. Glancing around, I see no sign of Merlotte. I select the closest free booth, which offers me a view out a large window. The table is situated near the jukebox, where a bleached-blond woman is busily stuffing in money and making her selections. An unfamiliar waitress comes up to the table, and asks me what I would like to drink. I order an O positive TrueBlood, and tell her I wish to speak to Merlotte.

The waitress nods, and heads back to the bar. The blond woman's music has begun to play. It is a country and western tune, which is not exactly my favorite genre; but while I am waiting I idly listen to the song. For some reason, even this ridiculous song is making me irritable. It seems to be about a woman who believes her boyfriend is cheating on her, and so she retaliates by vandalizing the poor man's prized car. Hmph. I wonder if she has even bothered to make certain he is actually guilty before doing so. Honestly though, I would much prefer Sookie to use such direct tactics instead of running away from me... if there is one thing a vampire understands quite well it is violent reactions, and I can easily replace the car. As a warrior, I much prefer dealing with things head-on, and this frustrating game of chase is driving me completely crazy. Once we have mended this misunderstanding, I must somehow get it through my Bonded's beautiful but stubborn head not to resort to this again. Nothing can be resolved if one of the parties is missing in action.

By now, the waitress has returned with my blood. She carefully slides it across the table, and announces, "Sam will be right out." I can tell she is curious about me, but also very cautious. She asks if she can get me anything else, and then goes to service her other tables. I take a sip of the blood, but once again it's taste is off, and honestly I am not really all that hungry anyway. The music now has changed to another tune, and this one features a woman who is going to stand by her man, no matter what... unlike my wife, who runs at the first sign of trouble. Now this music is really getting on my nerves. Grumpily, I wonder if these humans really listen to this sort of thing all the time? No wonder they all seem so surly and depressed!

Fortunately, my musings are interrupted by the shifter, who saunters up to the table in a very casual fashion.. He knows full well that as King of this territory I am due a great deal more respect, but for now I am willing to let that slide. On the drive over, I very carefully considered exactly how to approach this conversation. This is a very delicate situation. I need to figure out exactly what Merlotte knows without tipping my hand first. If he does not already know that Sookie has left me, I would much rather not let out that information. The Supernatural grapevine being what it is, it would be all over the state by dawn. However, the first thing out of his mouth is, "Hey, Eric. How's it going?" He looks around rather expectantly, and asks curiously, "Where's Sookie? In the ladies' room?"

Over the years I have had a number of dealings with this shifter, and he is not particularly given to being devious. I can tell by his expression that he really has no idea why Sookie is not with me. Smoothly, I reply, "No, she is not with me tonight. A few days ago, she passed along your information about the selling of vampire blood in Bon Temps, and I am here to see what you had to say in person. Have you learned anything further?"

"Not really," he answers, but something about the way he says it makes me think that perhaps he knows more than he is willing to tell. Now my curiosity is piqued. I sit back in my seat, fold my arms across my chest, and give him a serious stare. He holds my gaze for a fraction longer than I thought he could, before he amends it to, "Well, nothing concrete, anyway. I told Sookie I would keep my eyes open, and I swear, I will let you know if I can back any of my thoughts up with facts." At that, he gets a stubborn look on his face, and I fear I would have to resort to strong tactics to get anything further out of him... which might turn out to be counter-productive. Also, damaging him would definitely make Sookie even more irate than she already is, if that is even possible. Just as I am about to question him a little further, anyway, his eyes shift towards the front door. Although his face does not change expression, I can tell by the way his body tenses that something is up.

I turn my own head slightly, to see what Merlotte finds so interesting. The door has opened, and Sookie's brother Jason struts inside. Slowly, he scans the bar. If he were vampire instead of a lowly bitten were-panther, I would say he is sizing up the available prey, which in this case seems to be every unattached female in the bar. I am struck by how handsome a man he is, and for the first time realize how much of a family resemblance there is between him and his sister. His golden hair is a little darker than hers and his eyes a different shade of blue, but the structure of the face is similar. Even if he did not inherit the spark of magic that Sookie did (or the intelligence), obviously he did get the innate ability to attract females that all fairy males possess. A cocky smile on his lips, his eyes stop and assess each unattended female as potential targets... that is, until they light on me.

Quite obviously I am not an expected or a welcome sight. Jason is not as deeply tanned as he was the last time I saw him, and just now he loses what color he does have. He stands rooted to the spot for just a minute, and then seems to gather his wits about him. He strides forward, coming to a stop just in front of my table. "Where's my sister?" he demands rather belligerently, "What's she doing to Gran's house? I went by there today, and it's a wreck!"

Is this young human really using that tone with me? Instantly, my temper flares. I do not care if he is Sookie's brother, I am not going to tolerate such blatant disrespect. I am just about to teach him a lesson in respecting his betters, when Merlotte tries to intercede by saying sharply, "Jason! For heaven's sake, shut up!"

Sookie's brother is several inches shorter than me, and his eyes track mine as I slide out of the booth and pull myself up to my full height. He ends up staring up at me, and I think it finally dawns on him that perhaps he might have irritated the wrong vampire. He swallows hard, and takes a big step backwards. "What your sister does with that house is none of your affair. It belongs entirely to her," I say coldly, "But I do have something that I want to ask you."

Instantly, tiny beads of sweat pop up on his face, and if anything, he gets a shade paler than before. "I understand that you and Sookie had an argument just before our marriage," I continue, "Would you care to tell me exactly what was said?"

For a moment, he just stares at me blankly, as if that was not the question he was expecting. If anything, he seems a little relieved. He clears his throat, and answers, "That's between her and me, Eric. Why don't you just ask Sookie? I thought she had to tell you everything, since she is your Bonded." He says the word "Bonded" with a slight sneer.

I am old enough to recognize a diversion when I see it. However, he has touched a nerve, and so I growl, "Our Bond is unique and sacred, Stackhouse, and not to be disrespected by someone without the capacity to understand it. Do not try my patience too far. Also, do not count on your sister to always be able to intercede on your behalf."

He blinks a couple of times, and then the insult finally sinks in. He starts to turn an interesting shade of red, and I can tell I am about to see the male version of the famous Stackhouse temper. By now, I am spoiling for a fight, too. Unfortunately, Merlotte has been a barkeeper long enough to recognize a fight brewing and skilled enough to try and diffuse it. He steps up next to me, and crosses his arms across his chest. The shifter gives the were-panther a stern look, and says, "Jason, I think you better go get some fresh air and cool off. Go on, now."

Fuming, Jason exclaims, "Son of a BITCH!I can't believe you are siding with a vampire, Sam, Especially Mr. High-and-Mighty, here! He stole your girl right out from under your nose! What's wrong with you?"

Now irritated, Sam says, "Jason Stackhouse, I asked you to get out of my bar politely. Remember the last time I had to throw you out? Do you want Eric here to help me? Now, get!" There seems to be an underlying message to his statement, and one Jason must understand. He puffs up his chest a little, but finally spits out, "Fine! I'll just give my business to another bar, one that ain't so fond of big arrogant dead guys!" Turning abruptly on his heel, he walks stiffly out of the bar, and a minute later I can here an engine gunning and a truck skidding on the gravel as it fishtails out of the parking lot.

Sam just shakes his head, and says, "He can be a real asshole sometimes. It's hard to believe he and Sookie came from the same parents. Now, if you want to wait a minute, I did write down the license plate number of the guy I caught with some V in the bathroom. He's not a regular, but he does live around here, I think. I think it may still be on my desk. I'll be back in a minute."

Still seething from the encounter with Sookie's brother, I sit back down and begin to brood. So far, this evening has been another total disaster, from the word go. I have been all over Northern Louisiana, and not gotten one step closer to my Bonded. All I have to show for my time so far is the glamouring of one seriously unattractive woman and having a ridiculous confrontation with my wife's idiot brother. There is nothing further I can do until tomorrow night, when Claude's strip club opens. The jukebox is still playing, and this time the song is very melodic, sung by a woman with a rich, honeyed, soothing voice. I begin to really listen as she sings a love song. Somehow, the lyrics begin to penetrate my brain, and I listen carefully. She seems to be singing a song that I could have written to my Beloved:

All my thoughts just seem to settle on the breeze
When I'm lying wrapped up in your arms
The whole world just fades away
The only thing I hear
Is the beating of your heart

The song goes on until the last words:

I can feel you breathe
Just breathe

Without warning, a fierce wave of longing for Sookie washes through me, and I have to fight for control of my emotions. How can a mere song evoke such intense feelings from a vampire such as me? I am suddenly anxious to get out of this redneck bar, with its saccharine country and western music. What could possibly be taking the shifter so long? At least the song is finally over... that is, until a stocky redneck weaves his way over, and punches in a number, and the exactly the same song begins to play again.

Oh, no. I absolutely cannot stand to hear that again. I rise and take the two steps required to reach the machine. As politely as I am able, I say to the man, "That song just played. Play something else." The drunk looks up at me bleerily, and says belligerently, "That there's my fav-rite song! I just payed to play it... twice! And there ain't a thang you kin do about it, you non-breathin' sum-bitch!"

Instantly, my restraint snaps. A surge of dark emotion sweeps through me, and before I know it, I pick up the jukebox and heave it through the nearest window. The redneck himself is next.

Several more come to his aide, and soon they join him. They are laying in a heap on top of the broken shards of the window, groaning, when Merlotte rushes back into the bar, a slip of paper dangling from one hand. He runs over to the hole, sticks his head out and surveys the mess. It is obvious that none of the rednecks are seriously injured, but still he exclaims, "Jesus, Eric! What the hell happened?"

Plucking the slip of paper from his fingers, I reply, "I did not care for the song."

The shifter begins to sputter, but before he can find any words, the front door flies open and Bill dashes inside. He rushes over to my side, and asks urgently, "Eric, what's going on? Were you attacked?"

"No." Pulling my money clip from my pocket, I peel off a pile of cash and hand it to Merlotte. "By a new machine. Get some less depressing music. There will be someone here tomorrow to repair the window."

Looking at Bill, I command, "See to it. I am going home."

With that, I take my leave, and head for Valhalla.

*****

After the short trip home, I park in front and head straight for my library. I phone Pam and relay what had occurred in Monroe, and get an update on what is going on at Fangtasia. I instruct her to field all calls from the Sheriffs and anyone else unless it is extremely urgent. She sounds a little surprised, but of course agrees. Glancing around, I see Bobby has unpacked my things from the trip, and has placed my laptop on my desk. I sink into the comfortable chair behind it, open the computer and turn it on. While I am waiting for it to boot, I glance around the room. There are still books and things that I brought from the other houses lying around in boxes and stacks, waiting to be arranged. The computer is still not ready, and there is nothing all that urgent I need to do anyway, so I rise and begin to put my things away. Something about the mere act of creating order in this space is soothing. Time passes quickly and before I know it I am levitating up and slipping the last volume on the highest shelf and then settling gently back to the floor. I look around with satisfaction. When she comes home, Sookie will be proud of the way this room is taking shape. It still needs some artwork, though.

Returning to my desk chair, I finally get around to checking my email. After discarding the obvious junk, I begin opening each one in turn. About half-way down the list, I find a reminder from the photographer that we still have not ordered any wedding pictures. I hesitate briefly, but then plunge in. I slowly scroll through each shot, reliving that fantastic evening. Oddly enough, instead of making me sad, seeing the radiant happiness on the face of my Beloved cheers me up considerably. I am especially fascinated with one candid shot in which we are we are dancing. We are staring into each others eyes, and the photographer has captured the look of total adoration on my bride's lovely face. These photographs have served to remind me just how much Sookie really loves me, whether she knows it right now or not. The kind of love we share is deep and true, and not easily destroyed. After viewing these pictures, I feel much better, and happily place our order.

As luck would have it, the very next email is from Sookie's dress designer in New York. He has sent me three different designs for her Coronation gown. Momentarily, I feel a twinge of unease. What if she has not returned by then? Although her presence is not absolutely necessary for the ceremony to occur, I would not think of going through this very important event without my Queen at my side. Even though she is my Twice-Bonded, she is not vampire, and therefore it is extremely important for the vampires of my territory to witness her inclusion in the ceremony. I suppose I am worrying for nothing... I am confident that she will have returned long before then, and all will be well. Even if I cannot find her myself, her relatives will be forced to return her soon, to forestall the Bonding Sickness. I will have a chance to explain, and even if she is still angry with me, the blood exchange will help to restore her trust in me. I will never forget that miraculous moment in which the Bond was repaired in New York. In that pure and mystical moment of re-connection, our souls become perfectly intertwined, leaving no barriers of any kind between us. She will understand once again that we really are one, and that she can indeed trust me. I would never willingly hurt her, because it would be exactly like hurting myself.

Again reassured, I stare at the designs for the gowns and quickly discard two. The third has possibilities, but it is not nearly elaborate enough, and I want it to be perfect. I wish I had a printer here, so I could play with the design and get it just right. Searching through the desk, I find empty drawers, and realize that we have never followed through with the idea of setting up an office here at Valhalla. Glancing around to see if I can locate a scrap of paper of any sort, my eyes come to rest on Sookie's purse. Bobby has left it sitting on a small table next to the sofa. I retrieve it, and the first thing I spy is the small notebook that my Bonded carts around everywhere. It is typical of everything Sookie. She must have purchased this right after being informed that she was about to become an extremely wealthy woman. Instead of choosing a decorative lady's journal from an expensive stationery store, she opted instead for a 99¢ spiral bound notebook from the corner drug store. Not fancy, but convenient, functional, and very practical. After a little more rummaging, I locate a pen as well. Returning to my desk, I am just about to open it, when something on the cover catches my eye. Up in the top corner, in her neat schoolgirl script, my wife has written Sookie Stackhouse Northman. The last name is in a different colored ink, and is clearly a later addition. For some reason, it makes me smile.

Instead of just thumbing though the book and locating a blank page, I carefully turn over the cover and see what is inside. Glancing through the book, I am a little surprised to see that not only does it contain lists and sketches, it also has lots of written notes about all kinds of things, almost like a diary. Although curious, I decide to wait to read it later, when I can give it my full attention, and so I set it aside without removing any pages. The design of the dress will just have to wait until tomorrow night. Quickly, I fire off an email to Bobby, giving him instructions for exactly what is needed in the way of office supplies for Valhalla. Once that is done, I open a few more emails, answering or discarding them. The next one I come to is from Rasul, and the message reads:

Your Majesty,

These were sent to me by a photographer at the Erebus Parade. I thought you might like it. Please give my regards to the Queen.

Your humble servant,

Rasul

I click on the first attachment, and a photograph fills the screen. It is a picture of Sookie at the parade. She is sitting on her throne, dressed in her red-and-gold Bonding gown. She looks absolutely stunning in that costume, and I am happy that someone got some pictures of her on the float. I click on the next attachment, and the next photo opens. If I had breath, it would have been taken away. It is a close up shot of Sookie. She is facing slightly away from the camera, and the flames from the torches create a wonderful play of light and shadow across the planes of her face. She looks mysterious, erotic, and devastatingly beautiful; and yet, curiously innocent, an amazing and intriguing combination. I reach out a hand, and lovingly touch the screen. Even with her golden hair and blue eyes, in her red and gold gown she reminds me of the some of the gorgeous brides of India.

Mesmerized by the picture on the glowing screen, I allow myself to slip into that state that Sookie refers to as "downtime." What humans often do not realize is that in spite of what they may think, we vampires are not the unfeeling creatures of the night they think we are. All of our senses are heightened, and we see, feel, and hear things to an amazing degree. We are constantly bombarded by sensory input, and have adapted by learning to shield ourselves from it mentally, and sometimes physically. When we "power down," it shuts out most of the outside stimulus and allows our minds to rest. In this suspended state, we are still able to think and also to dream. During our true periods of rest during the daylight hours, vampires really are dead and do not dream... although now that I am older, that is not always the case with me. Just as I have periods of wakefulness, I sometimes can remember tiny fragments of dreams. These are more frequent since the Second Bonding.

Right now, I direct my inner thoughts to this image of my Beloved. It has triggered many of the feelings that in my waking state I try to overcome, because I know it is an archaic way of looking at things. I pride myself in trying to be as progressive in my thinking as I can, but sometimes I cannot seem to help myself. One of my fondest recurring fantasies is that I had met Sookie when she was younger, before she had met any other vampire... and so I allow my mind drift off in pursuit of that thought. In the resulting dream, she is subject to my influence, and I can glamour her and make her submit to me without a lengthy, frustrating chase. She is completely innocent and untouched, and since I am the first to love her both emotionally and physically, there will never be any competition for her affections. In this marvelous fantasy, she knows and accepts her rightful place as my Queen without a single argument It ends with her snuggling into my arms in our hidden chamber, and it is clear that she will be content to never leave my side, forevermore. Ah, what a perfect dream!

Once I come back to my normal waking state, I marvel at exactly how powerful that particular dream had been. It was vivid and intense, as if I really was with her... and the odd thing is, I still feel ... connected to Sookie, as if our Bond is not completely shut. Suddenly, I realize that a tiny bit of her life force is swirling around in my mind and body. It is nothing more than a delicate flutter, but that feeling is incredible! Instantly, I try to call to her again, but there is no response. I savor each minute of that wonderful feeling, until it eventually fades away... but that brief connection was enough to renew my sense of hope. All is not lost, by any means. Excited by this turn of events, I get up and pace around the room. I wonder exactly what has just occurred. Was Sookie herself lifting the veil? If she was very far away, I could not have felt her, could I? For the thousandth time, I wish I knew more. I must find out whatever there is to know about our Bond, as soon as possible. It is too close to dawn to pursue it tonight, but perhaps a call to Wanda or Robert should be on the agenda for tomorrow evening. Even if my trip to Claude's is successful and Sookie comes home tomorrow, I still need to understand this Bond.

Dawn is not far away, so I scoop up Sookie's notebook and head downstairs to our bedroom. After showering, I slip into our bed, taking the little spiral notebook with me. I pile up some pillows, settle in, and open the cover. The first page has lists of things to be done for our wedding, doodles of her dress and flowers, and off to one side, she has charmingly tried out her new married name in various ways: Mrs. Eric Northman... Sookie Northman... Mr. & Mrs. Eric Northman... Something in my chest goes thump. I smile, and turn the page. There were only a few brief notes about her trip to New York, including one that said: Boy, that Robert is a hottie. But of course no one can measure up to my Viking. My favorite comment about our wedding day: If I had a thousand years to plan another wedding, it could never be as perfect as this one.

Next are pages of observations and notes from our honeymoon, as if she was reminding herself about every tiny detail: Eric swam down to the bottom and brought me up the most amazing shell. It still had the conch inside, alive! I made him put it back, so it could go back to its family. I wonder if it has lots of little baby conches to take care of? How do conches make love, anyway? Does Mr. Conch leave his shell, and sneak into visit ? ... I love the way Eric looks in the moonlight. Last night, he held me and told me stories about his life. It makes me feel so special, to know that he loves me enough to share those things... So, she was not bored by all those old tales at all, but very interested in knowing all about me. Last night in her bedroom, I realized how little I know of her life, with the exception of the few things she shared with me while I was cursed. Before we were a couple, Sookie used to accuse me of being arrogant and self-centered. Maybe I am, just a tiny bit. I have been attempting to make her fit into my life and my way of doing things, without even knowing much about her and the things that are important to her. When she comes home, I vow to myself to do better.

After the honeymoon pages come her take on the situation in New Orleans, along with sometimes scathing but accurate descriptions of the vampires there. Some of them make me laugh out loud: That smarmy Victor! I feel like I need a shower every time I see him. I bet when he was human he was a peeping Tom! Creepy Felipe is not nearly as slimy, and is really quite handsome, except for that silly Zorro cape. I note with satisfaction that she is careful not to reveal anything of our plans in writing. Then comes her take on her meeting with Luke: What a hunk! Obviously he was fishing around for some response from me, but really, I wasn't born yesterday, and besides... I just got back from my honeymoon!!! What kind of a girl does he take me for? Anyway, I have the most handsome, exciting, spectacular husband and lover on the planet, why would I possibly think about anyone else?! The look on Eric and Bill's face was priceless, though... And then, after the battle: To watch the Viking in full-out battle was completely amazing, although a little hard on me because of our Bond. Thank God Bill was there to absorb some it! I always thought the phrase "poetry in motion" was silly, until I saw him swinging that huge sword. Is there something wrong with me that I wasn't completely sick at the sight? No wonder all the other vampires seem to ready to accept Eric as their King. I could not imagine someone any more fierce, more confident, or more regal than he was last night. Sometimes I still wonder what someone like him ever saw in someone like me. I wonder how this works... he is King. Does that make me a Queen? I guess it doesn't really mean any thing, since I'm not a vampire, but I will do my best not to embarrass Eric in any way.

The next pages had to do with the aftermath of the take-over, the staffing of the Royal Residence, and after that the decoration of Valhalla. There were several pages about her ideas for the gardens of our home, along with sketches and some penciled in lists of plants. It is clear that she is putting a great deal of thought into every detail. The very last pages were full of notes, lists and sketches of her ideas for the expansion of Fangtasia. Her comments on the trip to Las Vegas: Eric took me to see Phantom of the Opera. It was wonderful! He is the best husband in the whole world, and I love him more and more every day. What on earth took me so long to figure it out? Oddly enough, there was not a word about either Sandy or Sabriel. The very last notation was: Eric proved to me last night how important I am to him. I hadn't realized how much I had been worried about that, in the very back of my mind. I feel so much better now. He really loves me!!!! I am the luckiest girl in the world! Several very ornate hearts are doodled around the edges of that page. There were only a couple of blank pages left in the little book, and I assume at that point she had intended to buy another cheap notebook and continue forward in the new one. Laying the book on my chest, I sigh. Reading Sookie's thoughts to herself has been an amazing insight into her heart and her mind. Somehow, I feel as if I know her much better than I did before I started. Now I wish she had written this on the finest paper stock available, so the pages would last for centuries. She probably does not think so, but they are indeed something to treasure. Perhaps she will allow me to provide the next book, when this one is done.

One thing is crystal clear. The woman is mine, heart and soul, and I do not believe even something as cataclysmic as this event can destroy something so strong. Although entirely unintentional, I have managed to damage her trust, and it is entirely up to me to find her, repair that trust, and convince her to come home where she belongs. Whatever it takes, I will do it.

Laying the precious notebook on my nightstand, I slide open the drawer and remove the two garments that I had stowed there earlier. I turn off the light, and lay back. As I wait for the sunrise to take me, I rub the satiny fabric over my face and breath in my woman's delicate scent. It comforts me, and somehow reassures me that we will be reunited soon. The hardest thing to bear just now is the silence; and just before the dawn pulls me under, the refrain of that haunting song drifts through my mind:

I can feel you breathe
Just breathe

Sookie in the Portal

For the rest of the day, I spent a great deal of time with Niall. He proudly escorted me around some of the palace, stopping briefly to point out portraits of family members and telling me little bits about each one. After dinner, we again strolled around the grounds, and he showed me a couple more of his "favorite gardens"... except that I think they were all his favorite. The Prince clearly loved flowers and plants and obviously put a lot of thought into the spectacular designs. I think more than anything, he was trying to help me keep my mind active, and not have a chance to brood too much. He seemed to think I should take a couple of days to settle down a bit before making any choices, and he was probably right. I really couldn't seem to make my mind think much about it, anyhow.

At one point, I asked Niall if Claudine was coming back, but he said that he'd sent her off on a short vacation. Since I was in the Prince's safe hands here in the Portal, my fairy godmother was free to leave the area with a clear conscience and take a well needed rest while I was gone. I did get tired pretty easily, and so not long after our walk, I excused myself and went to my bedroom. I was pretty proud of myself for not getting lost on the way there!

As soon as I arrived, Aderyn popped in and helped me into my nightgown, and then brushed my hair for a long time. She told me with authority that my hair required at least a hundred strokes twice a day, and I had to laugh. I explained to her that up until today, my hair had never had more than about ten strokes, period, and that was when I wasn't in a rush to get to work. The shocked look on her little face was priceless, and in spite of myself, I had to chuckle. After rubbing some yummy-smelling creams into my skin, she tucked me in, pulled the curtains closed, and the room fell dark. In no time I was fast asleep, and almost immediately I began to dream.

Oddly enough, though, this time I wasn't even a player in my own dream: I could see the Viking, who seemed to be sitting in a bar. In the crazy, mixed up way of dreams, though, instead of Fangtasia, he seemed to be in Merlotte's. The really nutty part was that he was sitting near the jukebox, apparently listening to country and western songs. Now I knew for sure it was a dream! As far as I knew, Eric never listened to that sort of thing. My old friend Sam came over to his table (it was so good to see his kind, sweet face!) and sat down and began to talk. A minute or two later I could see my brother Jason come in. He went over to Eric's table, and it was clear that he an Eric were not seeing eye to eye on something. Eric got that really dangerous glint in his eye that meant he was just about to let go of that vampire temper of his,and Jason got red in the face and puffed out his chest. What an idiot! The Viking could kill him with one little swat!

Luckily, somehow, Sam managed to calm them down. Jason left and Sam got up and disappeared down the hallway, but Eric stayed in place. After a minute, the song on the jukebox changed to one of my favorite tunes. It seemed that Eric was actually listening to the words, but near the end, Eric got the strangest look on his face. Not long after that, a redneck went over and played that same song over again. Eric got up and spoke to the man, and a minute later, picked up the jukebox as easily as if it was a matchbox. Rotating slightly at the waist, he tossed it straight through the nearest plate glass window, and then tossed the redneck out after it. The noise it made was awful, and instantly most of the crowd in the bar turned, got one good look at the huge, totally enraged vampire, and instantly began to scatter like a frightened covey of quail. A few of the other of the men in the bar headed for Eric, their intent to harm him clear...

I jerked awake, heart pounding, and instinctively reached out to my vampire to make sure he was safely resting next to me. Feeling no huge cool body next to mine, I rolled over and opened my eyes to look for him before remembering where I was and why I was there. In spite of myself, a wave of loneliness and longing for my husband pierced me. I lay in the dark and tried my best not to think about Eric... without much success. I tossed and turned, and tried to settle into a more comfortable position. Finally, I gave up and just stared at the ceiling. I wished I had a book to read until I could fall back to sleep; and before I knew it, Aderyn was standing by my bed, holding out a book and a hot glass of milk. I thanked her as I took them from her and then apologized for disturbing her. She just smiled and said, "It is my pleasure, Your Grace.I hope you like the book." It turned out to be Jane Eyre, one of my favorites.

Reading the familiar story was very soothing, but it took me a long time to fall back asleep. Eventually I managed to drift off, and some time later I started to dream. This time, the dream was extremely vivid and intense, like I was really living it. In it, I was a much younger version of myself. I was working my first job away from home, as a barmaid at a joint in the French Quarter of New Orleans. It was the middle of the week, and late enough that most of the tourists had stumbled on back to their hotels. The remaining patrons were mostly locals, and there were not many of them, either. The heavy front door swung open, and a group of three people came in.

There was a petite blond girl of about twenty, a handsome dark-haired man who looked to be about thirty, and a very tall, broad-shouldered man with long blond hair, who was perhaps twenty-five or so. They were all clad in black from head-to-toe, which was not at all remarkable in the Quarter and this bar in particular. What was unusual was how gorgeous they all were, and I idly wondered if there was yet another movie being filmed in the area. It was obvious from their pale complexions that they had not spent much time in the sunny South. I watched as they picked the last booth in the very darkest corner of the bar, and slid into their seats. It was not my station, and so I turned my back and continued to take care of my few remaining customers. As I made my way around the bar, I couldn't help but notice that the big blond man was openly staring at me. As a barmaid, I was pretty much used to being stared at, but something about the way he was looking at me was different... almost as if he was very hungry, and I was a nice, juicy steak. For a split second, our eyes met. The attraction I felt for him was immediate and intense. I felt like I had been struck by a bolt of lightening and it quite literally left me breathless. He gave me a slow, devastatingly sexy smile, and then casually turned back to his friends.

Obviously I had misinterpreted his stare. Why on earth would a man like that be interested in a girl like me anyway? Maybe he thought I had been staring at him. Embarrassed, I felt the heat begin to rise in my cheeks, so I turned my back to the group. Just then my boss came up and told me, "Sookie, it's really slow, so why don't you go on home? Amelia can take what's left of your tables."

Even though I needed to keep working because the rent was due soon, I was really tired. I had worked a double shift, and my feet were killing me, so I thanked him and went to the back to hang up my apron, use the restroom, and grab my purse. On my way out, I waved at my roommate Amelia, indicating I'd see her at home later. I noticed that the group of three was gone, leaving their obviously full glasses of red wine sitting on the table. However, I could see some bills lying there, too, so at least they hadn't stiffed my friend.

I slipped out the door, and sighed as the humid night air surrounded me like a heavy glove. It was late summer, and even as late as it was, it was still hot as hell; and I knew that by the time I got back to our apartment, I would be ready for a long, cool shower. I started down the street towards home, which was a pretty long walk from the bar. It wasn't in the best area of town, but it was all Amelia and I could afford, and at least I didn't need a car to get around. My old clunker had barely gotten me to New Orleans in the first place. I couldn't afford the repairs to get it running again, and I had sold it to the guy at the repair shop for three hundred dollars. I really didn't think it was worth that much, and it was obvious he just gave it to me because he felt sorry for me.

By that time of night, the streets were practically deserted. I was so tired, I was walking very slowly, concentrating on not stumbling over the uneven pavement of the sidewalk. I had chosen a rather dark, dimly lit street to go down, knowing that it was not the safest route, but it was the quickest, and my feet were just killing me. About half-way down the block, I had the strangest notion that someone was following me. I glanced back, but saw no one. Still, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. After a few more steps, I could hear the sound of steps behind me, and so I decided it was definitely time to pick up the pace.

Hurrying now, I tried to remember what was ahead of me, but I thought that there were only a few businesses that were closed at night and several residences with shutters closed tight against the normal noise and bustle of the street. I knew my best bet was just to keep walking, and hope to run across one of the many policemen that patrolled the Quarter at night. Coming to a corner, I made the decision to turn left, and head back towards the bars. In my haste, I had chosen a street even more deserted and dark than the last one, except for the light from a flickering gas lamp attached to a wall near the end of the block. The steps behind me were getting closer, and I took long enough to glance back over my shoulder. Sure enough, I could make out the shadowy figure of a man, who immediately darted back into the shelter of a doorway. It was so dark that I could not make out what he looked like, but that furtive move let me know that I was in serious trouble.

I turned and began to run towards the light. Now I could see that it was hanging next to one of the old wrought iron gates that usually guarded a path into one of the brick courtyards of the residences. From experience, I knew it would be locked tight, but maybe I could shout at the people inside the house to call the police. Just as I was about to reach it, a man stepped around the corner. He was holding a set of keys in his hand, and he began to casually unlock the gate. Thank God! I was just about to shout out for help, when I realized with a shock that it was the tall blond man from the bar. He must have heard me running towards him, because his head jerked my way, and instantly he seemed to take in the situation. Quickly, he finished unlocking the gate, and gestured for me to go past him to the safety of the walkway. I dashed past him, and he came in right behind me, swinging the gate closed with a distinctive clank. It was very dark in the little passageway, lit only by what little light was coming from the gas lamp outside, and by a small amount of glowing light coming from the courtyard at the other end.

With a shock, I realized that I might very well have jumped out of the frying pan into the fire. There I was, locked into a small dark place with a huge stranger, who could turn out to be Jack the Ripper, for all I knew. He turned to me and said, "Are you all right? Would you like for me to call the police?"

His voice was deep and melodious, with just the tiniest hint of a foreign accent. His words made me relax a bit. Now that I was standing next to him, I realized just how large this man really was. He was at least 6'5," and obviously very fit and muscular. He was gazing down at me with a neutral expression on his handsome face, and even in the gloom of the passageway I could see that his eyes were an intense sapphire blue. In answer to his question, I found my voice and replied, "Um... I guess not. By the time they get here, he'll be long gone, and I can't even give them a good description. I would like to call a taxi, though. Do you have a cell phone I can borrow?" Amelia and I shared a cell phone, and it was her day to have it. I really hated to spend the money on a taxi, but figured that was my only option. I also needed to call Amelia before she left work, and warn her to do the same.

The man said, "I'm sorry, but I left my cell phone in my room, but you are welcome to come with me while I fetch it."As gracefully as a cat, he slid past me in the little passageway, and I obediently followed behind him towards the courtyard at the other end. I had not been in New Orleans for very long, and was so busy working that I had not met too many people. This was the first private courtyard I had ever seen, and so once we were out in the open, I looked around with interest. For the Quarter, it was quite large, and had a huge flowing fountain in the center. Much to my surprise, there were several people standing or sitting in the open area. Strangely enough, every one of them was clad in black, and they were all very attractive people. As the man and I came into sight, they stopped talking and stared at us intently, until the tall man gave them a careless wave of his hand. After a moment, they all went back to the conversations they had been having. I felt a little better about being there, though, since obviously nothing was going to happen to me with all of these people around. Behind me, I heard the clang of the gate we had just come through, and the dark-haired man who had been with my rescuer in the bar earlier came through the passageway behind us. He gave a curt nod to the tall blond man I was with, and then went over to join the others in the courtyard.

The blond man led me over to a door, where he proceeded to open a very complicated-looking electronic lock. Just to make conversation, I asked, "Do you live here, or are you just visiting?"

He swung the door open, and gestured for me to enter. "I live here when I am in town," he answered, "I travel a great deal, and have homes elsewhere."

Wow! It sounded like this guy must have some money, to have more than one home. Once again, I wondered if he was an actor, or something. I thought about asking him, but decided I didn't want to appear too nosy. After all, he was merely being a good Samaritan, and he really wasn't obligated to tell me his life story. Curious about all the others, I said, "So, is this building cut up into apartments? Do they all rent here, too?"

With a faint smile, he said, "No, actually I own the whole building. Those are just... friends of mine. They are welcome to rest here when they are visiting."

That was certainly an odd way of putting it, but from that slight accent, I figured English must be his second language. I stepped past him into the room, which seemed to be a sort of suite. The first area was a sitting room, luxuriously furnished with obviously expensive antiques. Through an open doorway I could see what appeared to be a bedroom. He followed me inside, and shut the door firmly behind him. It was a little hot inside the room, which was odd because most people in New Orleans would have an air conditioner cranked up full-force on such a hot night. After my panic, I was sweating to beat the band; so I rummaged in my handbag, pulled out a tissue, and began to mop my face. Immediately, he said, "Oh, I suppose it is a little stuffy in here... I am sorry, I do not have air conditioning. Let me open the windows." He went over, and threw open the floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the courtyard.

"You have had a fright," he stated firmly, "You should have a drink, to settle your nerves." Moving smoothly across the room to an antique breakfront, he picked up a crystal decanter filled with an amber liquid. Deftly pouring a dollop into a small crystal glass, he brought it over to me. Holding it out, he said, "This is brandy. I think it will do you good." I nodded, and took the glass from his hand. My fingers brushed across his, and for such a hot, humid night, they felt deliciously cool. A little sizzle of energy passed between us, and for the first time I could see a faint look of surprise cross his features. For a moment, he stood and gazed down at me with those fabulous eyes of his, and it was all I could do to keep from reaching out and running my fingers along the strong line of his jaw, and then down the contours of his muscular neck. I had an overwhelming desire to touch that place on his chest just at the top of his shirt, where some very masculine chest hairs were peeping out. Suddenly, he looked slightly smug, as if he knew exactly what I had been thinking. What was wrong with me? To cover up any awkwardness, I stammered, "Um... can I use your phone now?"

"Oh! Forgive me," he said at once, "Please, enjoy your drink, and then I will be glad to give you a ride home myself. I have a car here... and before you object, I insist."

I thought about it for a second. For one thing, if he gave me a ride home, I could save the taxi-fare, and for another, it meant that I could spend a few more minutes in the presence of this absolutely gorgeous man. There was no doubt about it, he exuded sensuality, and I bet every female within a mile radius was hot for his body... and that would now include me. In response, I said, "If you're sure it's no trouble..."

"I am sure," he said firmly, "Now, might I ask your name?"

"Sookie Stackhouse. I'm originally from a little place called Bon Temps, up near Shreveport."

"My name is Eric Northman," he said, "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sookie Stackhouse. Now, why don't you have a sip of your drink?"

Obediently, I put the glass to my lips, and took a small sip. The fiery liquid burned my throat, but the taste on my tongue was wonderful. Eric's eyes had never left my face, and I lifted my own to meet his gaze. Instantly, I found myself totally mesmerized. There was something about his eyes, something completely sexy and yet soothing... it felt as if I could stand here all night, and lose myself in their blue depths... I had the strangest feeling that he knew me, knew everything about me, and that I could tell him anything in the world and he would understand. "That is a very good girl," he said encouragingly, "Now another sip..."

Suddenly wanting nothing more than to please him, I obeyed. I followed his eyes as they tracked down my face, and then to the base of my throat. In the heat, a bead of perspiration had formed there, and began to roll slowly down my chest. Just before it reached my cleavage, his hand darted out and he caught it on the tip of his finger. To my complete and total amazement, he then raised it to his mouth and licked it from his finger. I somehow found that strange gesture to be amazingly erotic, and from the way his eyes began to glow, he did, too. He reached out and took the glass from my hand. Without breaking eye contact, he set the glass down on a small table next to us. He reached out and took my hand in his, and once again I noted how cool he felt. He said softly, "Come to me, Sookie." He tugged slightly on my hand, and as if in a dream, I stepped closer. At that minute, I felt as if I would do absolutely anything in the world he asked of me.

He took me in his arms, and gently touched his lips to mine. At that minute, I knew that I must be dreaming, because I wasn't the kind of girl that men like this kissed. Moreover, due to a few downright awful things from my past, I could never seem to get close enough to any man to allow them to kiss me. Back home, among other hurtful things, I had been called "Ice Queen" and "Dyke" just because I was so stand-offish when it came to men. This had been one of the reasons I had left Bon Temps, so I could go somewhere no one knew anything about me.

And yet, here I was, being kissed by a gorgeous man who clearly knew how. In the back of my mind, it registered that his lips were as cool as his hands, but somehow the coolness felt good... it felt... right. I didn't even feel like myself, somehow I felt... prettier, sexier than I really was, and I knew it was because this lovely man wanted it that way. Deep down inside, I wanted nothing more than to please him, no matter what it took. All my fears and inhibitions seemed to have vanished, and I found myself sliding my arms up around his neck, and leaning into him. His tongue darted and danced around mine, each of his kisses becoming deeper and more passionate that the one before. Soon he moved those talented lips around to my ear and I had no idea that someone nibbling at the lobe of something as mundane as an ear could produce such a reaction in a girl's nether regions. Heat and a pleasant throbbing sensation began between my legs.

His cool mouth moved down, and soon he was kissing my neck and sucking on it very gently. For some reason, it never even occurred to me that I should stop him. Up until then, he had been holding me in an embrace, bot then his hands slid down my arms and began to roam. He ran them up and down my back, and then caressed the swell of my hips and pulled me closer to him. I was pressed firmly against him, and there was no missing the hard bulge in the front of his buttery soft black leather pants. Oh... my! I would have dearly loved to have let my hands do a little roaming of their own, but... I just couldn't quite let go enough to do it. After a few minutes of rather passionate kissing, he stopped and then took my hand and led me back to his bedroom. He hadn't asked, and I hadn't said yes... it was just a given that I was going wherever he wanted to take me. Once we were through the doorway, although I was still completely focused on this man, my surroundings still managed to filter through the haze that seemed to have settled on my brain. The room was intensely masculine, just like its owner. The enormous bed in the middle of the room was sitting atop a fantastic Persian carpet, and was covered in black satin sheets and pillows. There were richly woven tapestries on the walls, and a few oil paintings in ornate gold frames. Everything looked very old and very valuable.

Eric gave me a slow, sexy smile, and then left me standing by the bed as he went around the room lighting a veritable sea of candles. Once he was finished, he came and stood by me again. He gave me another of those hypnotizing stares, and ordered,"Come here."

Even if I had wanted to resist, I knew I couldn't. It wasn't that I was doing anything against my will, but more like his will was my will. I walked to him and stood there quietly. Silently, he began to undress me. First my t-shirt, then my shorts... and then, ever so slowly, he pulled the straps of my bra down over my arms, and with one quick flick, popped open the front fastener of my bra. My breasts sprang free of their bindings, and those blue eyes began to smolder as he looked at them. He reached out one hand, and barely grazed my left nipple with his long finger. Immediately the light pink flesh tightened. A faint smile came to his lips, and he leaned forward and sucked the now taut nipple into his mouth. Oh... my goodness! If the nibbing on my ear had caused my little hootchie to be warm, that nearly made me burst into flames! Not meaning to, I let out a moan of pleasure. He just chuckled deep in his throat, and then ran his tongue slowly around the nipple, teasing it. After a few minutes, he showed the other one equal attention. The candlelight danced over his strong features, and this time I was bold enough to reach out and run my fingertips over his face. He caught my hand, and kissed the fingertips, then slipped one finger into his mouth and sucked gently. Somehow, I found that more than erotic.

With his hands, he slipped my panties down, and then let them fall to the floor. Suddenly, a tiny voice seemed to penetrate the fog in my brain, and it said, "Sookie! This man is a stranger! What are you doing? Are you really going to lose your virginity to a man that you just met?" It seemed to temporarily snap me out of the trance that I was in, and I took a big step backwards. I tried to cover myself with my hands, but Eric said sharply, "Sookie! Look at me!" Slowly, I raised my eyes to his again, and a feeling of calm settled over me once more; I knew that I wanted this to happen, and in fact I had the peculiar feeling that my whole life had been leading up to this one special moment, and what I was doing was right.

The big man led me to the side of the bed, set me down on its side, and then laid me back. After running his fingers lightly over my legs, he parted my legs with his hands, and then knelt between them. I was suddenly afraid, and my heart began to pound. As aroused as I was, I had never had a man touch me there before... not since the bad times, when I was young. Again, he gave me that penetrating stare, and as I looked into those endlessly deep blue eyes, I began to relax once more. Gently parting my golden curls with his hands, he exposed my folds, and studied them intently for just a moment. With the tip of one finger, he touched me at my entrance ever so gently; in fact, almost reverently. A lovely smile crossed his handsome face, as if what he saw there pleased him very much. He leaned forward, put his lips together, and blew. When that tiny stream of air hit that most sensitive of spots, I think I flushed from one end of my body to the other. He leaned in a tiny bit further, and I felt the tip of his tongue as it touched my nub. My entire body quivered, and then he really got down to business. He flicked, sucked, licked, and nibbled, and I jerked, writhed, and moaned in response. I was nearly out of my mind with the pleasure he was creating, and then suddenly... I could feel the tension in my body building... building... and then, wave after wave of extreme pleasure rippled through my body, my first orgasm ever given to me by a man. Afterwards, I lay panting, finally realizing that I had unconsciously wound my fingers through Eric's long golden hair. Throughout it all, his smoldering eyes had never once left my face. Now he gave me a sexy little half-smile, obviously pleased with himself. He was still fully dressed, but now he rose, and began to remove his own clothes. My body felt like jello, and I couldn't have moved a muscle if my life had depended on it, so I just lay still and watched.

First the jacket came off (languidly, I wondered how he could stand wearing a leather jacket in the heat of a New Orleans summer), and he tossed it carelessly across a chair. Under it, he wore a black t-shirt, the kind that body-builders sometimes wear. A second later, it had joined the jacket. and my breath caught in my throat. His upper body was absolutely magnificent, smooth and muscular, with a light covering of very masculine curls across his chest, and a matching trail that led down to the top of his leather pants. I wondered how much time he had to spend in a gym to look that way. His skin was very pale, but so healthy it almost appeared to be glowing; however, I knew that must be just a trick of the light. Without a doubt, this was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. I couldn't help but let out a sigh.

Reaching down, he pulled off his black boots. He unfastened his belt, unzipped the snug-fitting leather pants, and slipped them off, letting them drop to the floor. Obviously not self-conscious in the slightest, he stood quite still and let me admire him... and admire him I did. I had seen unclothed men in the movies, and in a few pictures, but this was my very first naked man in the flesh, so to speak. My eyes started at the floor, noting his large but nicely shaped feet: then traveled up his legs, which were long and muscular, and covered in that same soft down of dark blond as his chest;and then finally, my eyes came to rest on his manhood. I sucked in my breath sharply. My God! He was fully erect, and to me it looked simply enormous! None of the pictures I had seen had made them look anywhere near that size... could that big thing possibly fit inside a woman? Now, I really was worried, and it was enough to break completely through whatever spell I was under. I must have blushed, because he gave me a slow, sexy smile, and said, "What is the matter, Sookie? Am I not adequate?"

"Uh... yes, it looks like more than plenty! I mean, I don't know... I mean, I really don't have much to compare it to... " I stammered. Oh, hell! I hadn't really meant to say that last part, at all. Somewhat cryptically, he said "Of course. I should have known that." He walked slowly over to the bed, and lay down. After giving me another one of his intense looks, he said gently, "I want you to touch me." His hand captured mine, and then pulled it over to his body. Using his own hand, he guided mine along the contours of his body. He felt so... cool, much cooler than a normal person. In the back of my brain, I knew that was strange, but for some reason it felt good to me instead of weird. He slid my palm over his rock hard, sculpted chest, down his flat stomach, and then... he let go of my hand, and waited to see what I would do. I only hesitated a fraction of a second, and then I let my fingers run ever so lightly across the taut, silky skin of his erection. This time, Eric said a soft, "Ah!" For the next few minutes, I gently and somewhat shyly explored all his glorious man-parts, marveling at how everything looked and felt so very different than I had imagined it would.

All this time, Eric lay quite still, and let me get to know his body. Finally, he could stand it no longer, and pulled me to him for some serious kissing. He alternated that with suckling at my breasts. He took his time and seemed in no hurry. Wherever this was headed, he was obviously in no rush to get there. After awhile, he rolled us both on our sides, took my face in his hands and kissed me gently. He stared deeply into my eyes, and said seriously,"Sookie, you are a treasure. I knew the minute I saw you in that bar tonight that you were still untouched... still waiting for the right man to come along and teach you the pleasures of love. You had the most beautiful, innocent glow about you. I knew right then that you would be mine, and no one else's."

I started to remind him that I was only here by chance, but then his words sunk in. How could he possibly tell I was a virgin just by looking at me? He wanted me to be his? What did that mean, exactly? He wanted to date me, or did he only want to have sex with me...? Still gazing into those amazing eyes, I found that I honestly didn't care about the answers to any of those questions. If I never saw him again after tonight, I would still be happy that I had literally run into this man's arms, and that he was the first man to ever make love to me. "It is time for me to tell you something," he continued, "You of course have heard of the Great Revelation?"

"Yes. Vampires, right?" I had heard all about it on the news. Ever since it had happened, it was all anyone at the bar could talk about. It was quite a shock to everyone's system, but apparently it was true. It was rumored that there were many vampires living in New Orleans, but since the reaction of the public was still uncertain, most of them were obviously keeping a very low profile. I had no idea why Eric would bring such a strange thing up just now. Still pining my gaze with his, he said softly, "I am vampire." Although by all rights I should have been terrified, I found I was quite calm. I wasn't even really sure if he was serious. He must have read the look on my face, because he gave me a little half-smile and captured my hand in his. He placed it over his heart and I felt... nothing. Oh my! He had no heartbeat! How could I possibly not have noticed that this man was a vampire? And yet, besides being very pale, and cooler than a normal person, he seemed so alive! Uncertainly, I said, "But... you are breathing. I thought...."

He replied, "If you will pardon the pun, it would be a dead give-away if I did not pretend to breath. I have survived many years by appearing to be human, and that is just one of many tricks I adopted. Now that you know, it will no longer be necessary." With that, his chest quit moving, and with a chill I knew it was because he really didn't need to breathe. His handsome face completely expressionless, he lay quite still and watched me, clearly waiting for me to say something. In the depths of his eyes, though, I could see a sadness... a weariness, that touched something deep within my heart. Without even stopping to think about it, I reached out my hand, and stroked his cool face. "I bet living like that is hard, and I'm sorry," I said quietly, "Maybe things will be easier now."

I think he was expecting any reaction but that one. We just stared at each other for a moment, and then I got up enough nerve to ask timidly, "Why don't you have fangs?"

Eric got a wicked little gleam in his eye, gave me a pirate's smile with his perfectly even teeth... and then, in a flash, two long, white, extremely sharp fangs snicked down. It was so quick it startled me, and made me jump just a bit. Oh, wow. Completely fascinated, I asked, "So, does it hurt when you bite?"

"It depends," he answered truthfully, "It is the vampire's gift to bestow... pain, or very intense pleasure."

I had no idea if it was rude or not, but I could not seem to stop my hand as it reached out, and gently touched the tip of one shining fang. It was every bit as sharp as it looked. More to myself than him, I whispered, "They are so... lovely."

A flame seemed to ignite in those cool blue eyes. The vampire said slowly, "You are the one. I knew it. Now, I want to make you mine... but only if you are willing."

With that, it was if a fog lifted. My mind became clear, and I realized exactly the situation I had gotten myself into. I was just about to give my virginity to a total stranger, who was also a vampire. Jesus Christ, Sheppard of Judea! Gran would disown me if she ever found out about this! Had this vampire hypnotized me, or something? I suddenly knew something very much like that had happened, but that for some reason, he was now giving me a choice. My mind instantly came up with a hundred reasons why this was a bad idea, and was telling me to get the heck out while I still had time. My heart, on the other hand, was telling me to stay, for one reason and one reason only: because I wanted to stay, and be loved by this man... this vampire, more than anything.

Very softly, I whispered, "All right."

The vampire said, "You are a maiden still, Sookie. I saw the proof of it with my own eyes. Let me prepare you to take me." With that, he began to kiss me again, with increasing passion. His hand snaked down between my legs, and nudged them open slightly. His talented fingers searched out my nub, and began to rub it in a rhythmical way, which had me squirming against his hand in no time. Soon, I was dripping wet, and his fingers were slick with my juices. Some deep, primitive instinct was building inside me, and I wanted... I wanted... oh god! I wanted to feel him inside of me, filling me. Shyly, I put my lips to his ear and whispered, "Now?"

He seemed to understand that it was time, and that I was more than ready. He parted my legs a little wider and slipped between them. His big body covered mine, and it felt so... right. My arms slipped around his neck, and his hungry mouth came down to meet mine. I could feel his huge erection pressing against my center and for one brief instant, I was afraid; but then, he told me gently, "It will only hurt for a minute, my Lover. Now, are you ready?"

I nodded, and closed my eyes. He commanded, "No, Sookie, look into my eyes." Obediently, I opened my eyes, and the minute our gazes met, I could once again feel his influence, calming me and making me relax. Ever so slowly, he inserted his tip into me, hesitating very slightly at the entrance, and then giving a tiny push to get past the small piece of skin that was barring the way. (Luckily, my Uncle Barlett had only touched and not penetrated, apparently only able to be aroused by very young girls who were still "intact"). I gasped as it broke, and gritted my teeth as he continued to go deeper. He was just... so... big! I felt like I was being ripped in two! But then, he backed out slightly, and then began again. He took his time, all the while watching me intently. After awhile, the pain lessened, and then... it began to feel good. Soon, it felt... wonderful. So this was what I had been missing! My God!

As if they had a mind of their own, my hips began to move under him, rocking up to meet his slow, smooth thrusts. Apparently, it was the right thing to do, because Eric moaned deep in his chest, and began to move just a little faster. Before long, I was absolutely lost to the wonderful sensations he was producing in my body. Eventually, the glorious tension of another orgasm began to build. For the first time, Eric released my gaze and bent his golden head to my neck. He began to nuzzle me, licking and sucking in the same spot as earlier, and before I even had time to be afraid, he plunged those fantastically sharp fangs into my flesh. The pain was brief, but also the most exquisite thing I had ever felt, and I was grateful that this vampire had chosen to gift me with pleasure. Then, as my blood flowed into his hungry mouth, my mind and my body just shattered. I climaxed, my body convulsing with wave after wave of intense pleasure. Flashes of white and gold exploded behind my now closed eyelids. Before the waves subsided, the vampire let go of my neck, rose up on his strong arms and looked down on me."Look at me!" he commanded, and I instantly obeyed. Now, he no longer appeared human at all, but showed me the totally awesome, powerful, terrifying, glorious creature of the night that he really was. With each powerful thrust, he growled out, "Now... you... are... MINE!" He plunged as deeply as he could go, and then held himself tightly against me as he reached his own peak. I felt his essence as it exploded into me, filling me; and it was the single most blissful and satisfying moment of my entire life.

A moment later, he collapsed on top of me, and we both lay very, very still as the shock waves subsided. I wondered if he could feel the wild beating of my heart against his chest. I ran my hands down his magnificent back, feeling the muscles and sinews under my palms. I felt the firmness of his butt, and I pressed there just a little, holding him in place. I wanted to stay joined with this amazing man as long as possible. Eventually, though, he rolled off of me, and I wondered what would happen next. Was our time together over? Would he just take me home now, and disappear from my life? That thought made me so sad, I wanted to cry. Deep inside, I knew without a doubt that even if I never laid eyes on him ever again, and even though he was still a stranger in every way but one, I would love this mysterious and amazing man until the day I died.

Instead of getting up though, the vampire cuddled me to him and kissed me tenderly. In his low, melodious voice, he said, "I am very old, Sookie, older than you can imagine. I have walked this earth for more than a thousand years, and for all that time I have been searching for my true mate."

A thousand years? He was right, I could not even begin to get my mind around that, but I also knew that he was telling me the truth. He continued, "It is you, Sookie. You are the chosen one. You were born to be my mate, and from now on, you will never leave my side. No other man shall ever touch you, and all those who owe me fealty will honor you."

The vampire's words both stunned and amazed me, but I never once even thought about arguing. Something inside me knew that what he said was true. I was born for him, and no other. I never would leave his side, no matter what. An incredible bubble of joy rose inside me, and I felt like I was about to burst. He smiled at me, and my heart just melted at the beauty of it. His hand trailed down to my mound, which he brushed lightly with his fingertips. "Are you sore, my Lover?" he asked. Boy, was that an understatement! But I was proud of that soreness! I just nodded. "It is to be expected, since I am the first..." and then, with just a tinge of arrogance in his voice, "...and since you have no frame of reference, I am considered quite large. Now, I have another little secret to share with you."

Another secret? I bet he was absolutely full of them, and I wondered if I would know even a fraction of them. Because of what vampires had to do just to survive, I imagined it was just in their natures to be secretive. Still, apparently he was going to tell me at least one. Unexpectedly, he reached up and pierced his forefinger with the point of one gleaming fang, and a fat drop of thick blood welled up on the tip. He quickly reached down and rubbed it on my throbbing girl parts, making certain to swirl it very thoroughly up inside me. To my amazement, the soreness vanished instantly. I bet my eyes were as big as saucers, and I gasped out loud. "Better now?" he asked.

Again, I nodded, afraid to speak and break the spell. Smiling, he said with satisfaction, "Good. You see, vampire blood has the power to heal. It is one of our most carefully guarded secrets. In reality, vampires are extremely jealous of their blood, and hardly ever share it. The older the vampire, the more potent the blood... and as I said, I am quite old."

Obviously, he had just given me a great gift, and so I said very simply, "Thank you."

He merely smiled at me again. Unexpectedly, a moment later, he commanded, "Stay." Gracefully he rose and vanished through another doorway. Obediently, I lay still, and a moment later, I could hear the sounds of water running. Soon, Eric came back to the bed, and without a word scooped me up as easily as if I were an infant, and carried me to the next room.

It turned out to be a bathroom, and a very luxurious one at that. An enormous claw-foot tub was full and steaming, and he took me to and carefully slipped me into the fragrant water. A moment later, he joined me, settling me between his legs and pulling me back against him. He reached out to a small wire basket attached to the side of the tub, first selecting a sea sponge, and then a bar of heavenly-smelling soap. As carefully as if I was made of spun glass, he bathed me very thoroughly. Once he was finished, I rather shyly turned to face him, reached out and took the sponge from his hand, and then began to scrub him. As I watched in fascination as the warm water sluiced over his sculpted muscles, I absolutely could not believe that I was here, and this magnificent creature was allowing me to bathe him. He never said a word, but lay back and allowed me to care for him, obviously enjoying my attentions immensely.

Once I was finished, he rose from the water, which ran off his gorgeous body in sheets. He stepped out of the tub and grabbed a thick red towel from a nearby basket full of them. He quickly dried himself, and slipped on a pair of low slung black silk sleep pants. He came back to the tub, reached out a hand, and then helped me get out. Pulling another towel from the basket, he dried my off thoroughly, and then fetched a black silk robe from where it had been hanging on a hook on the back of the door. It was very large, and it completely swamped me. The letters EN were embroidered in red thread on one breast pocket, so I presumed that it was Eric's own robe, and I snuggled into it, smiling. Once again, he swooped me up in his arms, and carried me out of the bathroom.

I had hoped that we were headed back to his bed, but much to my surprise he continued on through the bedroom and out to the sitting area. He deftly managed to open the door to the suite, and stepped outside onto the courtyard . I was so far down the rabbit hole, it never occurred to me to voice an objection. The group of people that had been there before were still there, but now they were all standing. They watched us silently but intently, their eyes glowing in the shadowy half-light of the courtyard. With a start, I realized that they must all be vampires. I could even see the two that had been with Eric earlier in the bar. They stepped forward to stand in front of the others.

Eric set me down next to him, and took my hand. In a strong, clear voice, he announced, "This is Sookie. She is my woman, and mine alone. She is the one that the Ancient Pythoness prophesied would be my mate. Behold your new Queen." His words completely shocked me, but strangely, no one else seemed in the least bit surprised. I was a... Queen? Did that mean that Eric was... a King? The King of all the Vampires? Well, why not? He was so old, and power radiated from every fiber of his being... yes, I could see that he was a King. Now I really was in awe. The two from the bar stepped forward, knelt before us, and curiously, tilted their heads so that their necks were bared. I knew without being told that this was an act of submission. Eric said to me, "These are my Lieutenants. They will help guard and protect you from this night forward. Now, my Queen, dawn is approaching, and we must go to our rest."

Once more, he scooped me up, and strode rapidly towards the huge doors at the other end of the patio. His two Lieutenants hurried in front of us, and swung the doors wide for us to pass through. The female went on ahead of us, down a long hallway filled with magnificent paintings and antiques, until finally coming to a locked door. She punched in a code to an electronic lock, and then opened the door. I could see a dark stairway, leading downwards. Eric carried me down the stairs, and I heard the door swing shut behind us, and the faint beeps as the locks were set. At the bottom of the stairs was a magnificent lair, this time decorated in shades of dark blue, the space dominated by a huge bed. Eric laid me gently down and then crawled in next to me. He drew me into his arms, and cuddled me tightly against his big body. In that marvelous voice of his, he said, "Now, Beloved, we must rest, and tomorrow night, we will begin our life together...." And soon, snuggled as tightly as I could get to my vampire, I fell into a deep slumber....