Driving by the house had served to calm my nerves and lighten my mood, something I was grateful for. I parked in front for a couple of minutes, fingers clutching the steering wheel, to peer through the tall wrought iron gate in the direction of the house. I couldn't help but wonder how many times I had previously dropped my shields, searching for a void – a vampire – for Eric. But that night I did it again, and once again was met with the utter defeat that was not finding one there.

The engine sputtered before roaring to life as I turned the key, and someone – Bobby, I assumed – pushed the curtains in the great room aside to root out the source of the noise. Feeling humiliated – Fintan and I had danced this dance, and been caught at it, a lot – I thrust my foot against the gas pedal, peeling away into the night.

Fintan, who sat beside me in the passenger seat, remaining silent during the whole episode, piped up only after we turned the corner to exit the cul de sac.

"What was it that Desmond gave you, my dear?"

Curiosity overtook my mind, and I slowed my speed, pulling over to park onto the dirt shoulder of the paved road, flipping on my hazards and the overhead light. As others whizzed by – at such high speeds that my tiny car shook from the reverberations – I slipped into my purse and extracted the small brown parcel, carefully unknotting the braided string about it. Inside was a single enveloped, but unsealed note containing something with a little weight to it, something that jingled faintly as it moved. I furrowed my brow; what the hell?

As I removed the letter portion, its contents fell into my lap, glistening momentarily as the metal sparkled under the gaze of the dim interior light; it hummed lightly in a way I wasn't wholly comfortable with. Silver – a Tiffany's necklace to be specific, and not unlike the one that Pam and I had bought before the three of us – Eric, Pam, and I – had traveled to New Orleans to face the Louisiana Vampire Queen. But it wasn't exactly the same, and that trip had never happened in this world. Fintan had said Desmond expected me to understand his gift, but I most certainly did not. If anything, it felt a little bit like Fate was taunting me, but I shrugged off my knee-jerk and overly paranoid response to such a beautiful piece of jewelry. Instead of outwardly voicing my confusion, I unfolded the card, hoping Desmond's note would elucidate its meaning.


oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOooOoOoOoOo


My sweet Goddaughter,

I hope you have found your new reality in higher spirits than your past couple of years. You are easily the strongest and most exceptional young woman to have ever graced this plane – or any other alternate universes you may or may not have created. I jest; it is not my intention to be insensitive if my joke has come too soon. I merely mean to compliment you on your fortitude and perseverance through a situation capable of crippling even the best among us. You can brush it off as flattery, but you are enviable – and I am envious.

I fear I have run off-track, but you are your own worst critic, and subject to far too many jealous thoughts from those around you who wish they were half of what you are – you could stand to hear more compliments in your life.

The necklace is for you, to protect yourself - literally and symbolically, a gesture still significant to their kind - against the vampires – not that I intend to shuffle you into harm's way, far from it – but I would like to ask you to come work for me, at least part-time. I believe your intellect and talents will…


oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOooOoOoOoOo


It finished similarly with many more praising phrases – my face flushing in embarrassment but also awash with disappointment. My heart sank a little in my chest. While I was pleased by the gesture – and the job offer – part of me, some tiny little flickering candle of hope within myself, had surged temporarily, believing that the necklace had been a gift from Eric – that my vampire inexplicably remembered our time together and had sought out Desmond to find me. Wouldn't that have been nice? But that was a silly school-girl notion – fairytale poppycock, hogwash, rubbish – pure bullshit.

'Grow up, Stackhouse' – I told myself mentally – 'you already know he's not going to remember; if he did, you would have met him years ago.'

"You should work for him," Fintan chimed in, pulling me from my morose thoughts, "He is right – you would be quite adept and skilled as an assistant in a law office. Plus in the supe world, it is best not to hide; if you are known and in the open, you will be much safer. If something was to happen..." He let himself trail off, looking wistfully out the window - no doubt remembering what I had told him about the vampires' previous interest in taking me by force, "It is much easier to be found when the whole world notices you are missing."

Fintan had not read the letter, so I guessed that he had plucked Desmond's message from my mind.

"You know… you weren't quite so nosy before," I said, laughing so he would understand I was poking fun, not sniping at him.

"Perhaps you were not so quiet before…"

He responded, trying to match the mirth of my tone, but failing miserably. He was right, of course. For the past two years, darkness had consumed my waking hours as my heart mourned the empty Eric-shaped hole inside me; my previously jovial nature curbed in exchange for heavy thoughts and overwhelming anxieties, hardness settling in my spirit. I needed to reclaim my lightness, dismiss the rain cloud I had been walking around under, and focus on living – for Eric, who would be none too happy to discover I'd been walking around in a hazy, sad storm-cloud fog for the better part of past twenty-two years... if I was really being honest with myself.

After several moments of awkward silence, I restarted the car, looking over my left shoulder out the window for an opening to pull back onto the road.

"But you're right," I said, speaking to his earlier assertion, "Jase's always said 'the best defense is a good offense'... works in football, probably will work in the supe world, too."

Of course, I couldn't ignore the irony that I was thinking of trading one murdering boss for another – but Desmond was different; he had killed Sam – in my other life – to avenge Jason's death. I wasn't sure if God would forgive my demon godfather – thou shalt not kill was a commandment, not a suggestion – but I sure had; not that forgiveness had been needed. Hadn't I done the same to Bill Compton under the same guise, a similar notion – revenge? Maybe I could be called a great many things, but 'hypocrite' was not one of them. A TV show I liked had once pointed out that karma didn't necessarily have hands, which meant she was forced to use others for her bidding – I liked to believe it's what had happened with myself and Desmond – and if I paid for that faulty assumption later? That was fine; I'd choose to deliver Bill Compton the true death again – every day of the week, if the opportunity arose.

"Your grandmother's approach is..." I could tell Fintan was trying to put it as gently as possible, "... ineffective. She seeks to hide you from the world, but that won't keep it at bay. Desmond's will take the bite out of the situation - no pun intended." He chuckled at his own turn of phrase.

I enjoyed it also, chorusing his melodic laugh with my own. Finally finding my opening – a surprising amount of traffic speeding by for such a late hour - I began our course back to Hummingbird Lane, reflecting silently on Desmond's offer, Eric's absence, and Fintan's words. And, of course, there was necklace resting in my lap – the one I hadn't moved or touched since it fell there. I couldn't bring myself to make it real by accepting its corporeal nature, and honestly I wasn't sure why.

After bounding up the uneven gravel drive, I parked in front of the mostly dark farmhouse; the porchlight illuminated its namesake and little else. Before I could unhook my seatbelt, Fintan popped out of the car to open my driver's side door. I appreciated the gesture by offering a quiet "thank you" accompanied by a small smile – my mind otherwise distracted – as I exited the vehicle, tucking the silver necklace into the pocket of my black work shorts.

I couldn't bring myself to wear it yet.

"Goodnight, my dear," Fintan placed his arm around my shoulder, squeezing, "If I may offer some grandfatherly advice," My blue eyes bore into his, as I staved off tears threatening to burst forth – Eric; if I had not made the wish, would we be in each other's arms right now? – nodding my agreement, "Do not let your past plague you; the future is all any of us has."

He popped away, but I knew he hadn't gone far, sensing his mind upstairs in the house – Gran's room. I loved they had wandered once again into each other's paths – not only because it had secured my own existence, but because their love was beautiful, fathomless and deep. I ached to tamp down my jealousy, to embrace the hope Fintan tried to spark within me, but some part of me struggled against both, and I hated feeling so at odds with myself.


oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOooOoOoOoOo


I slumped down onto the porch swing after ascending the few wooden stairs – hugging my legs into my chest for warmth and comfort - staring into the night sky, tracing the outlines of constellations with my fingers.

"Where are you, Mister Sheriff Vampire?" Hushed bitterness enveloped my tone, "Why aren't you here?"

And then I noticed it, a tell-tale void in my mental signature, within the casted net I set about me to scan for supernatural threats or human predators. My breath hitched in my throat and my heart fluttered in my chest. Had Eric heard me? Was it him?

"Hello?"

My voice echoed in the direction of the void in my woods, rattling through the trees and dying unanswered. Emboldened, I rose from my seat, walking slowly off the porch, trying to still the anticipatory shaking that had overtaken my form.

"Hello?"

I called again, the volume crescendoing, my nearly frantic and excited utterance belied by its pitch as I launched myself forward, stopping shortly outside the haloing light from the deck. But almost concurrently, something inside me gave me pause, and I knew I'd be remiss to ignore it, slowing my descent towards the hidden figure.

Peering into the pitch black darkness, I surveyed the tree line, searching for any sign of movement; my ears itching to catch the slightest sound, the crackling of a fallen leaf or the wind pressing against clothing. In seconds, my excitement transformed into fright, and my heart's quickened thump-thump whooshed loudly in my ears as adrenaline flooded my veins – my legs screaming to run. I threw my hand into my pocket, fumbling to grab the silver chain, dropping it into the dewy grass. I scrambled to find it, terror clutching my chest as I broke out into silent sobs. My fingers grasped at dirt and rocks, scraping tiny holes into my skin as I continued to hunt by touch alone for what I feared may be my only salvation – the void advancing upon me slowly – menacingly – even though it had yet to appear in my line of sight.

Pain radiated through me borne from the cuts in my hands, but I wouldn't allow myself to yelp out, although I wanted to – what if it only served to spur on the beast lurking in my woods?

Eric wouldn't taunt or tease me like this, I thought to myself as my terror compounded. It wasn't as if he'd been the only vampire interested in me before - Sophie-Anne, Russell, Bill; they could all be added to that list. And in this world? Who could say? I wasn't exactly keen to solve that mystery.

My heart continuously leapt into my throat violently, breaking my concentration from the task at hand - the necklace.

Finally, the cool metal brushed against my trembling fingers and I snatched it up, fighting momentarily with the clasp, but emerging victorious. I shoved myself back, pushing off the ground and scratching up the back of my legs, to flop over and jump to my feet, sprinting – after a couple hasty stumbles – back towards the safety of my house.

The void didn't breach the line of light cast out from the now flickering light, but it didn't leave either, watching me - I was sure of it - like an animal stalks its prey. Before I threw open the screen door, I swore I heard a sharp inhale followed by a heady shuddered groan before the void disappeared entirely, vamping away in the direction of the graveyard next to my house.

I could barely stifle my wails as I slipped onto the lacquered wooden floor with my back pressed against the closed front door. It can't come in, I told myself, not without an invitation. But of course my mind nagged at me that Gran could easily weak-link that system of magical protection since, unlike myself, she could fall victim to glamour.

I didn't sleep a wink or bother to scrub the dirt from under my nails - it smarted like hell but it reminded me I was still alive, intact.

I did manage to break one of the legs off my wooden nightstand, fashioning it into a makeshift stake - so that was something akin to progress. I thumbed it over and over, my back against the headboard - quilted bedspread pulled about my shoulders - eyeing the window and door as if they were pathways to my destruction to be utilized by my enemy, the unknown vampire who, as far as I knew, may have had an open-ended invitation into to the house.

Awareness was most certainly the opposite of bliss.


oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOooOoOoOoOo


Sometime after sunrise broke, I lost consciousness, exhausted from the previous night's events. I had been wrung out like soaked laundry and hung to dry; so I slept, and I slept. Whenever my crusty eyes would dare to open, I'd squeeze them shut again dragging myself back into the furthest corners of my addled mind. Dreams didn't come, and I was happy not to oblige them.

Not emerging from my room for several hours after my usual waking time caused Gran to come upstairs to check on me – worried out of her mind. But I wasn't eager to face her because I was scared to learn the truth about whether or not she had been glamoured.

And I was right to be nervous – because she had been – that became apparent almost instantly.

"Baby girl, are you okay?"

My Gran asked me, speaking quietly and calmly, rubbing my back in an effort to wake me gently, sitting next to me as I lay turned away from her. She had always made me feel loved, like I was precious to her.

I pretended to be asleep, slipping into her mind – too anxious to discover whether or not she had, in a sense, been compromised. I stifled my shock as I wriggled deeper and deeper, rooting out a dark spot – a blank – that was a clear indication that glamour was rife within her mind. It saddened me to no end, but I had to strengthen my resolve – having already decided what course of action to take in the event a vampire had taken ahold of her mind. I regarded her the way Desmond had Jason went he sent him away in my other life – she was a ticking time bomb, and one I was sure would be activated to destroy me.

And she would be caught in the crossfire.

Whether it was myself or Jason, one of us Stackhouses always seemed to be pulling Gran into trouble – Jason previously by stealing vampire blood under glamour and stashing it in the house, and me… by being me – sweet-smelling fairy-hybrid vampire bait. While Fintan could mask his faery scent, I was certain that I could not, remembering more than once that he had encouraged me to run until the sweat soaked through my clothes if I had intentions to be out at night. He was determined to keep me safe by having me reek of my humanness instead of perfumed by my otherness, my faery blood.

Especially after hearing the tales from my first existence, Fintan had become cautious and concerned about my welfare, trying to help me navigate the ins and outs of the supe world with as much ease as supernatural catnip – as he had called me – could. Gran had done the opposite, not realizing how involved Fintan was in my life – or of my other life at all – replicating her previous actions by attempting to shield me from the harshness of the world, keeping me in the dark. It was… difficult to suffer, knowing that it had only served to cause me pain – hell, Pam had attacked me because I thought I was besting a human, not a vampire! And while that was ultimately Pam's fault – not Gran's – my grandmother's unwillingness to supply me with vital information had tipped the scales out of my favor. And now?

Now she was… compromised – to put it succinctly.

I stretched, feigning waking up from a deep sleep, and yawned flapping my hand over the space in front of my mouth before I answered her entreaty.

"Gran," I said with more seriousness than I had meant to intonate, "I think it's about time for me to move out," She opened her mouth to protest, but I hushed her with the raise of my hand, asking for her silence while I continued, "I'm a twenty-two year old woman, and I need to strike out on my own, find my path in life. I know you love me and I love you," I clasped her hands in mine, seeking her eyes, hoping she would find comfort in the warmth of my countenance, "But you need time with Fintan, and I need time by myself. Y'all have been taking care of me long enough, and I appreciate the hell outta y'all," She winced, as I expected, at my use of the word 'hell' to punctuate my conviction, "but it's time. Do you understand, Gran? It's time."

My soliloquy ended in a hushed whisper; I could only hope that she would not question my intentions. How could I tell her that she had been glamoured? Tricked into serving the wishes of some unknown vampire who surely had purposes to obtain me? I knew it was narcissistic to believe myself the cause and effect of my Gran's submission to the will of someone else, but I had learned enough in my other reality to ascribe blame where it lied – with me. Hell, this whole reality was the product of my ignorance – if only I'd known the faeries had been so instrumental in my life, I would've never even uttered such a silly wish – gotten everyone a new world that no one saw the differences in but me.

"Oh, baby girl," Gran responded, tears evident in her eyes and tone, "I expected this day would come eventually, although I hoped beyond reason that it never would. You have my blessing, of course, to carve out your own path. You're right; you are a strong young woman and it's time for you to claim your independence, grab it by both hands and conquer it. I'd like to talk to you out of your decision, but I'm just too proud of you, as always, to stop you from becoming the person God means for you to be."

"Thank you, Gran," And I was infinitely grateful that everything had gone off without a hitch, embracing her in my arms as we both cried out our sorrow at having to part from each other.

I broke the silence between us after ten minutes or so.

"I've already found a place," I lied, "It's close to Shreveport, near my new job working for Desmond," I half-truthed; he wanted me to work from him – he said so in his letter – and I intended to accept, especially after the night's events.

"Oh…" She replied despondently, tugging at my heartstrings, "So you're leaving soon?"

"Today, Gran," I wasn't exactly telling complete untruths because I knew I needed out as soon as possible, "I've got a moving truck coming in a couple of hours," Lying outright, feeling like an awful Christian, but steeled in my resolve, reticent to stay for another nightfall.

"So quickly…"

Fintan appeared at Gran's side, tucking her into his form, holding her. He spoke before she could resume.

"Of course, my dear granddaughter; whatever you need, we will provide. You must go and grab at your own life. We are so proud. Oh so proud," Tipping his head down to kiss my Gran on top of her head.

I smiled at him; he knew I was lying and he didn't care – I guessed he had expected this eventually, especially once I had completely regained myself.


oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOooOoOoOoOo


"Dezzie?"

"My dear, how are you?"

"I'm well," My southern sensibilities overtaking my desire to belie my fortitude, to tell him I was truly in shambles and effectively homeless, "How have you been?"

"Ready for your call," Desmond responded, a cryptic air in his tone and words, "What can I do for you? Are you willing to accept my offer?"

I thumbed at the necklace about my collar – thinking, as always, of Eric.

"Yes, but I need an advance. I told Gran I was moving out today. I know it's last minute, Des, but she has been glamoured by a vampire and I didn't know what else to do. There was one in my woods last night. I narrowly escaped with my…"

He cut me off without pretense.

"You must get away from the farmhouse as soon as possible; I understand. I will secure lodgings post haste. I believe a friend of mine, Octavia Fant, has a young apprentice, Amelia Broadway, who is in need of a roommate. I will inquire on your behalf and pay any needed securities up front. Do not worry about any moving services. There is a werewolf, Jackson Herveaux, in my debt; I will offer to clear it if he makes himself available to you today and no later – although I imagine he will send his son, Alcide. Either way, one of the two of them will make short work of gathering your belongings from Hummingbird Lane and transporting them to a new residence in Shreveport."

"But what if this… Amelia," I repeated her name, not sure if I got it right, "doesn't need a roommate? Then what?"

"Oh my dear, do not trouble yourself. Collect your valuables and prepare for the move. You will have a home in Shreveport whether or not the witch accepts your offer. I will find you a suitable home, protected from the vampires."

I didn't exactly like it – feeling like a kept woman – but what choice did I have? If it was between sleeping at the house at Hummingbird Lane – worrying the unknown vampire would enter at any time and rip my throat out – or allowing Desmond, my godfather and confidante, to find me alternative housing so I could rest easy – with a modicum of control over who entered and exited – the choice was easy. Yes, I'd pick me in Shreveport – even with complications abound – over me dead every day of the week.


oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOooOoOoOoOo


Months later…

Amelia was a loud broadcaster and it made it hard to concentrate – even when I was sleeping; the bags under my eyes were a testament to her ability to run a constant stream of internal dialogue. She routinely tested the resilience of my carefully-constructed shields, the telepathic fortifications I'd thought I had mastered; in short, she was really trying my patience, and winning at it – while I was most certainly on the losing end.

But I really liked her and, despite her inability to not think loud thoughts, she was a great roommate – we had a lot in common; it was an easy match.

We could talk about anything and everything – and we did. She loved hearing about me and Eric, and honestly I loved getting to talk about him. It helped hope to return to me, watching her sit on the edge of her seat with bated breath as I regaled her with stories from what all-in-all had been a short period of time basking in the love of a dichotomous man – someone capable of overwhelming cruelties but also compassions, at least when it came to me.

Amelia listened with rapt attention, as if I was weaving the most intricate and magical tale she'd ever heard in her entire life. She wept with me, holding me when despondency clutched my heart as my anxieties whispered hateful and awful insecurities inside me – telling me that I had not found Eric, even after being immersed into Desmond's world working alongside him, because it was not destined to be, because he was not mine.

I knew better, but it didn't stop those musings from their attempts to upset me.

In my heart and soul, I would always be Eric's, and I refused to date – much to the chagrin of Alcide Herveaux, the werewolf from Jackson who had helped me move to Shreveport. He had settled for the only thing I would offer him – my friendship – but we both knew he expected in time all my walls would crumble, and I would accept his affections. Only one of us seemed to understand that was a pipedream – namely me. It's not that I was going to devote myself to a loveless life, but I was holding out hope that Fate still had eyes for me and Eric.

But even if she didn't, someone did.

Little did I know, Amelia had started her own ministrations in the quest to reunite me with my love, my heart – Eric. And with the best of intentions, she did more damage than I ever could've imagined, wreaking magical havoc ironically in the same tenor I had done to myself – by asking the powers that be to bring me back something I had lost.

Someday, maybe, we would both learn to be a little more specific in our dealings with magic.


oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOooOoOoOoOo


Driving home from an exhaustingly long day of work for Desmond, I felt a wave of confusion and fury ripple through me with such force that I cried out from the suddenness of it along with its intensity. I nearly clipped the car beside me as I veered off the road and into an embankment, panting with each and every breath as I tried to reconcile the newly entrenched emotions swirling through my mind with what I vehemently told myself couldn't be true.

The bond.

It was back; and if I was reading it correctly, Eric was fucking pissed, confused, and frustrated – me too, Mister Sheriff Vampire, me too. My powers crackled, once again, in my palms as his fury coursed through me, melting the phone Desmond had purchased for me into a puddle of plastic and metal before I could call anyone for help.

"Fucking hell!"

I screamed out, allowing myself to curse, despite my displeasure of expletives – sometimes they had a time and place. I slammed my shields up – effectively ending the unceremonious lightshow that had erupted from my hands – with such force it knocked the breath right out of me.

Still I fought to settle myself down, as Eric's overpowering feelings seeped into me even through our muted bond, threatening to rent me apart from the inside. I held them at bay, but just barely.

What the hell had happened?

And then, inexplicably, I thought of Bob – the furry feline Amelia had inadvertently made out of a man – and I felt pretty sure that I knew who was responsible for the mindfuck that Eric and I had just experienced.

The rage that followed at that realization was completely my own.


oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOooOoOoOoOo


A/N: Oh Amelia; she means well, but... (at least this time, she gave the bond back instead of helping to take it away!)

Thanks to Mrskroy for editing, and all readers and reviewers alike! Y'all keep this wonderful fandom going!