Chapter 38: Of Wolverines, Sparrows and Fangsters
This was a mess. No matter how glad he was that he wasn't the only person who couldn't remember a damn thing, Logan wouldn't wish his life on anyone. Granted, his life was a hell of a lot better than some other people's, but still. Amnesia sucked. He punched the pillow into shape as he settled on the couch. Sookie's house wasn't quite big enough to house so many people, and some of the guard detail had to sleep in their cars. Logan would have quite willingly slept on the X-Jet, but everyone thought it would be best if he remained in the house, along with Sparrow and Quinn. He and the lawyer were meant to guard the were-tiger. The Wolverine wasn't quite sure what use Sparrow would be. The man was five foot ten at the very most. Quinn was well over six feet tall and made out of pure muscle. Sparrow looked as if he could use a couple of extra protein shakes. The only thing Sparrow actually had was a very sharp tongue and a dark sense of humour. Snip snip indeed. Although, if Quinn tried anything, Logan wouldn't be averse to using such methods of containing him. All was fair in love and war. Especially war.
Speaking of war, if one vampire king had his eye on Louisiana whilst it had a regent instead of a legal monarch, who could say there wasn't another vampire king eyeing the helpless state? It would be really bad for them if there was some alliance to take over Louisiana and split it. They might have New York on their side, but Sybille Royale had her own troubles to worry about, and she was very far away.
A knock interrupted his increasingly disturbing chain of thought. He swung his bare feet off the couch. They had to be careful, in case it was a witch. At first, he'd thought that they'd meant bitches, but it turned out that there really were witches. Then again, faeries were real too. Speaking of faeries, Claudine stood at the door, dressed to the nines. Was there ever a time when the faerie didn't look as if she'd just stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine? She also had a knack for appearing just when she was needed.
"I felt Sookie's distress earlier on," said the faerie, not bothering with greetings as she stepped inside the house. "What's going on?"
"Um..." said Logan. There really wasn't much he was capable of saying. Eloquence was not one of his strengths; at least, not when it mattered. "Maybe..."
"Brigant," said Theodora, zooming into the room. "Good, you're here. I was wondering if you would come."
"You know each other?" Logan asked. Did Theodora Evelyn know everyone in the world?
"Not really," said the ex-vampire. "I know she's a Brigant, but I don't know which Brigant."
"You're the vampire who isn't," said Claudine, looking the other woman up and down. "Good. Perhaps you can explain. Why was my young cousin distressed on your watch?"
Sookie had never been so glad to see someone. Claudine pulled her into a hug as soon as she saw her. Her godmother smelled of honeysuckle on a warm summer's day. It was comforting. "You must be strong, dear cousin," Claudine murmured. "I know it must be difficult for you, seeing the man who has betrayed you so badly, but things are being set in motion, and you need all the help you can get. This isn't just vampire business anymore. We are, all of us, involved in one way or another."
"I don't get it," said Sookie. "I'm only involved because I used to date a vampire, but how are the fae involved, apart from your link to me, that is?"
"Eric Northman has links in the Faerie world, as well as in the were world and now the mutant world. Basically, he has links with just about any supernatural entity in the world. You might not know it, but he is one of the key stones in the North American supernatural community. Topple him, and everything comes crashing down all around you. The power balance will be destroyed, and Europe will get involved. He has links to perhaps some of the most powerful rulers in Europe, Africa and Asia."
Eric? Well, Sookie knew he was an influential vampire, but she'd never thought that he was so influential. After all, he was just a Sheriff, and now Regent of Louisiana. Her houseguest. Yes, her houseguest was pretty much the vampire equivalent of the governor of Louisiana, and he was sleeping in a little crawlspace under the floor of her spare closet. The very notion made her want to giggle insanely. Yes, she was a little tired. "Get some sleep, Sookie," said Claudine. "You look like one of the vampires, with those circles under your eyes."
"I wish I could," the telepath told her. "But I just can't. My brain won't stop thinking—"
"Do you feel that?" Logan suddenly said, cutting her off in midsentence.
This little old farmhouse was not a fortress worthy of a vampire sheriff, but perhaps its innocent and harmless appearance was what made it such a good hideout. If they hadn't known about the vampire's infatuation with a certain young mutant, Hallow and Yvetta wouldn't have known to look here. They'd brought most of their coven along, in case Northman's people put up a fight. His vampires would be dead to the world right now, but there was the telepath and the mutant to consider, not to mention whatever it was that had altered Hallow's spell. Humans were of no consequence. They couldn't do anything against magic.
The witches surrounded the farmhouse, with its peeling paint and gutters flecked with rust. At once, Hallow sensed that something was not right. Yes, she could feel the unnatural life force of vampires interrupting the energy from the ley lines, but there were other sources of dormant magic; something a lot more powerful than her powers. There was a faerie inside. It wasn't too old, which was a good thing, but there was something else hidden within. It was like nothing Hallow had ever encountered before, and she'd encountered a great number of supes. Not only did she know vampires, other types of witches, wizards, warlocks and even a Maenad, but she'd never encountered something so strong and so subtle and so completely alien. There was some human life force involved, but mostly, it was just...well, for the first time in many years, Hallow actually felt unsure of herself.
The feeling had come upon him so quickly that he'd almost shivered. It wasn't a pleasant feeling. Rather, he'd had a similar feeling when he'd jumped off a waterfall naked. Wait...where had that come from? Outside, the sky was darkening. Within about fifteen minutes, it would be dark, which was just as well. It would be great to have the vampires awake should there be a fight.
"Feel what?" asked Mystique. "What is it, Wolverine? Spit it out!"
"That," said Marie. Ah, so he wasn't the only one. Their eyes met, and Logan knew that Marie was thinking the same thing as he was. At that moment, Claudine and Theodora came back to confirm their suspicions. "We're surrounded," said Claudine. "They're going to try and besiege us."
"They won't succeed, will they?" asked Jack a little nervously.
"I don't know," the faerie admitted. "She is very powerful, and she has other witches helping her. I am here alone. The Fae do not want to get too involved in the business of other species."
"She has far too much power for one witch," said Theodora. "My guess is that she has absorbed the powers of many other witches, and perhaps other kinds of supes as well."
"She can do that?" said Marie.
"What?" said Theodora. "Did you think you were the only one? You may be the only one of your kind, in a manner of speaking, but your powers are by no means unique."
"Can you deal with them?" Logan asked.
"On my own?" said Theodora. "Obviously not. However, since we have a faerie, you, an immortal pirate lord, a were-tiger, two telepaths, a metamorph, whatever the hell Sabretooth is, and an undeveloped succubus, I fancy that we do have a chance."
"You say it as if you think we'll work together," muttered Quinn.
"It's either that, or I'll have Marie absorb your life so she can be stronger in the fight," said Theodora.
"You can't make me do anything!" Marie protested.
"But you're a survivalist, and you're loyal," said Theodora. "If...say...Quinn were to endanger and betray us, and thus Eric, you'd make sure he wouldn't get the chance, wouldn't you?"
"Of course I damn well would! You know I'd kill for Eric." Whoa. Coming from Marie, that showed quite some level of commitment. That girl hated violence and liked to avoid fights when necessary. Heck, it had been hard enough to convince her to kill virtual humans during Danger Room training sessions. She was better about it now, but still, she only killed when she believed it was the only way to keep the people she loved safe. Perhaps Logan would have to get to know Northman a little better, after this disaster was over. It seemed as if he was going to be an important part of Marie's life now, and whatever was important to Marie was important to the Wolverine.
"You don't have to worry about me. I don't owe these bitches anything," said Quinn. "And if you can help me get my family out of De Castro's grip, I'll be in your debt."
"I like the sound o' that," said Jack. "Barbossa's got a monkey; it would annoy him if I snagged meself a tiger. Alternatively, I wouldn't mind gettin' a tiger skin rug for me cabin once I get me Pearl back."
The Wolverine was the only thing that stopped the Tiger from snapping Sparrow in half. "Shut it, Sparrow," Logan snapped. "I thought you were supposed to be smart."
"It takes a lot more to kill Captain Jack Sparrow than a mangy cat with stripes," said Jack with a sniff. "So, what're we gonna do 'bout those witchy wenches?"
"They won't attack unless they're certain they can win, and if Hallow is as powerful as she thinks she is, she'll be able to sense that we have powerful help. She won't be rash. And if she can't sense the magic in here, then there's no point in being worried about her," said Theodora. "We stall for as long as we can, until Eric and the other vampires wake up. And then we'll have a fighting force to reckon with."
Eric, Pam and the other vampires, including Bill, were itching for a fight. Eric wanted his memories back. Pam wanted to get back at the witches who hurt her maker, and Bill either wanted to impress Sookie or perhaps it was just his more violent vampiric traits showing themselves. After all, who knew what happened if a vampire drank the blood of a powerful witch? Would they absorb the power, or was it just like any other blood?
"I remember this feeling," said Eric. He was getting rather excited. "I love it!" He sounded like a little boy about to go to Disneyland. Marie could not help but smile at his enthusiasm, as twisted as it was. Normal Eric would die first before he would be seen looking so excited.
"I'm glad someone's so optimistic," Logan muttered as he pulled on the gloves of his X-Men uniform.
"I love a good fight myself," said Sabretooth with a grin. They'd all been surprised to learn that he had a name; Victor Creed. For as long as Marie had known about him, which, admittedly, wasn't that long, he'd just been 'Sabretooth' to everyone. "Who wants a drink?"
"To victory!" cried Jack, lifting his rum bottle high and then draining it in one gulp, probably to steel his nerves. Then again, rum was Jack's soul food and muse. Perhaps this was his way of preparing for battle. "We fight to run away!"
"No one's doing any running!" said Eric sharply. "I will not run, and I believe I have never run before."
"I thought he was amnesiac?" said Logan.
"Some things cannot be forgotten," said Pam. "And Eric is right. No one is doing any running."
"I'm not runnin'," said Logan.
"I don't run," growled Sabretooth.
"Fine," said Jack. "Strategic retreat, then."
"I can live with that," said Pam.
Hallow was as mannish and unpleasant as Marie remembered her to be, and Yvetta was as cheap as she'd ever been as a stripper in Fangtasia. The latter glared at Marie. The young mutant glared back, and only Logan's hand on her shoulder kept her from lunging at the witch and sucking the life out of her.
"I know what you want, witch," said Eric. They'd given him a brief rundown of what had happened prior to him losing his memories, and he was working from just the information they'd been able to give him. Fortunately, because of the Professor and his extraordinary telepathy, he'd been able to tell Eric just about everything he needed to know. Still, it was impressive that the vampire could be so calm and eloquent when he hardly remembered anything. "And you are not getting it."
"You sound so certain about that," said Hallow. "I took your memories, Eric Northman. I know I did, and I can take so much more from you. It's easier to work with me."
"In case you haven't noticed, I don't tend to take the path of least resistance," said Eric. "You have two choices. You can fight, and all of you will die, or you can not fight, and only a few of you will die." That had been Jack's idea. He'd plagiarized his nemesis, the infamous vampire lawyer that the AVL was employing. The line had been slightly altered, of course, but it was so appropriate that Jack said it would be a pity not to use it.
"Big words, vampire," said Hallow. "But you can't live up to them. I have more people behind me than you can possibly imagine."
"And I have more allies than you can think of," said Eric. "Believe me; there are power structures behind me that are beyond the wildest limits of your imagination." He didn't know anything about those power structures either. He simply knew that there were people out there willing to butt in and help him. Marie suspected the Mafia. Eric had ties to them, didn't he?
"It's true," Theodora added. "Trust me, messing with us is possibly the worst idea you could ever have."
"Who the hell are you? A sparklepire?" Hallow was quite accurate in her description. If there was ever a vampire who sparkled, it was Theodora. She had a thing for gold lamé pants and glittery tops, as well as big diamonds and lots and lots of bling. Subtle, she was not. That was what Yoda would say. Wait...why was she thinking about Yoda? Although, granted, the Professor was a bit like Yoda.
"Call me what you like," said Theodora. "I have no problem with being a sparklepire. After all, they're nigh indestructible, and they're aesthetically pleasing, which is more than I can say for you."
"Meh, it's the black," said Jack. "Take me advice; black makes you look like a corpse, lad."
"Excuse me?" said Hallow. "I am a woman."
"Really?" said Jack, looking her up and down. "You sure you ain't got somethin' dangly, mate?"
They probably thought he was mad, as usual, but there was logic behind the madness. Jack wasn't being insulting just for the sake of being insulting, although he did do that from time to time. He was trying to provoke the witch into doing something stupid. If he could get her to step inside the wards, then her powers would be more or less useless. Once they got the head witch, it wouldn't be too difficult to deal with all the other witches. To be quite honest, he didn't give a damn whether the witch was male or female, but he'd realized that accusing someone of being of the other sex usually angered them, for some strange reason. Except Will, of course, who had gotten pretty adept at ignoring Jack's insults, and Elizabeth, who threw the insults right back at him. It was a pity they weren't here. He would have loved to see pretty feminine Lizzie come up against the not-so-pretty-or-feminine Hallow. Ah, he did miss his friends sometimes. Barbossa, he couldn't care less about. However, if Elizabeth got involved in something, Barbossa usually also got involved as well, which was a pain.
"What the fuck?" Hallow spat. Aha! He'd hit a nerve. Now he'd just have to keep prodding it until she lost it completely.
"I was jus' askin'," said the pirate. "You don't look like a wench to me. Those lady lumps could be silicone, like hers." He jerked his head in the direction of the scantily clothed witch who used to be a dancer at Fangtasia. She reminded him a little of Scarlet and Giselle. "I mean, with modern medical technology—"
Hallow's hand snaked out to grab Jack. Jack was hardly expecting it, but if there was one thing Captain Jack Sparrow was good at, it was adapting. He dodged to one side before the talon-like fingers could wrap themselves around his throat. At that moment, Logan leapt for Hallow. Obviously, the Wolverine had had enough of being diplomatic. Within a split second, chaos had erupted. Hallow and Logan were wrestling on the ground. The witch's magic enhanced her physical strength, but otherwise, her powers were completely useless against the clawed mutant. It simply slid off him like water like a duck's feathers. Claudine had thrown up a magical shield. It was a hastily constructed one, so it wasn't as strong as anyone would have liked, but it was enough to temporarily hold off the spells that the other witches were throwing at them. Quinn had transformed into his feline self. He was much more likeable that way. He snarled at the witches, some of whom had also shifted into various animals.
Jack readied his pistols. Sure, they were antiques, but they'd saved his life more than once. Besides, they were much more aesthetically pleasing than modern guns. If the worst came to pass, then he'd still be able to shoot somebody. He wasn't looking to fight. When he did fight, he most often fought to run away. Unfortunately, this time, it didn't look as if he could run.
Bugger.
He felt a buzz in the air as Claudine hurriedly set up shields to stop the onslaught of spells that the entire coven of witches started throwing at them. It mustn't have been a good shield, because at least half of the spells got through.
Jack ducked as a bolt of light zoomed over his head. He had no time to see where it landed or what it did. The witches charged. So did the vampires. They were outnumbered, but Logan was more than holding his own against the head witch. Some of the witches were turning against their own, thanks to the interference of Charles Xavier. Jack was a little scared of that fellow. Who knew what he could do to him? The pirate preferred to keep his mind to himself, thank you very much. A head flew past him, having been ripped off by a bloodthirsty and ecstatic Eric Northman. He and Marie were fighting as if they were dancing a waltz. He lifted her and swung her around. Her booted feet connected with the head of a witch who'd been in the middle of muttering a jinx. The two of them reminded him a little of the Whelp and his Charming Murderess, actually. It made Jack a bit nostalgic.
He didn't have much time to think about that as he was knocked over by another young witch, who thought that he would be an easy target, for some reason. As he stumbled backwards, he slipped on the grass. Using the momentum of his fall, the threw the witch over his head before rolling right back to his feet. Captain Jack Sparrow, an easy target? Never.
Green light had gathered around Yvetta's hands, and she was about to throw whatever spell she had conjured up at Eric. Marie couldn't let that happen. Without thinking of her own safety, she lunged at the witch, dived at her feet and then grabbed her bare ankles with her bare hands. The green light faded as the power was absorbed by the young succubus. She felt the heat spreading through her body. It felt good, but wrong, like the buzz left by strong alcohol or a high from a joint of marijuana. Yvetta's mouth was open in a silent scream as she sank to the ground. Her veins were bulging beneath her translucent skin, and her pupils were so dilated that her irises had all but disappeared. Marie felt so elated and frightened at the same time. In fact, she was frightened by the elation that she was feeling at the prospect of killing someone. There was no need to kill after she'd incapacitated the witch, surely. She had no right to judge. It was wrong.
With great effort, she pulled her hand away, leaving Yvetta convulsing on the ground. There was no time to lose. Another spell was coming straight for her. Something incredibly fast knocked her to the ground and drove her breath from her lungs. The spell flew over her and missed. It was Bill who had knocked her out of the spell's trajectory. Yes, it seemed that some magic was subject to gravity. Eric was already onto the witch who'd tried to kill her. The witch tried to cast a spell on him, but he was too quick for him. His scream was cut short when he snapped his neck with his bare hands and then let the limp corpse drop.
One of the witches suddenly teleported and appeared next to where Bill and Marie were still on the ground, wooden stake in hand. Marie reached up and managed to stop the witch from stabbing the vampire on top of her by grabbing the witch's wrist. More power flowed through her; more elation, and more fear. Once again, she forced herself to let go before she actually killed someone. It was so hard to resist the temptation and the power. There was great power in holding someone else's life in her hands, literally. She scrambled to her feet as the witch dropped. Eric was by her side in an instant, having pushed Bill out of the way. Even in his amnesiac state, Eric Northman was still no fan of Bill Compton. The Nordic vampire grabbed her and kissed her right there and then, on the battlefield —well, Sookie's front yard— and in front of everyone. "You are magnificent, my warrior queen," he whispered, his voice husky with lust. Battles turned him on, amongst other things. "Now, try not to get killed before I have the time to do you homage."
Logan pinned Hallow to the ground and held her there, no matter how hard she struggled. He didn't know what was happening to him. The power he felt surging through his veins, the loud humming in his bones, the crackling energy all around him; none of this could possibly be natural. However, the more magic the witch tried to use against him, the more the power within him grew. Somehow, despite the fact that his rational mind was protesting against all of it, it felt right that he should be so powerful. He even began to see the golden light that outlined his hands and possibly the rest of his body. There was an unknown source of heat beneath his skin. His hand was at Hallow's throat. If she caused him too much trouble, it would be so easy to just crush her windpipe, not that he actually wanted to do it. The Wolverine didn't kill if he had a choice. It was just that all too often, he didn't have a choice.
"Stop!" he roared. "All of you! I have your leader, and if any one of you makes the wrong move, I'll kill her!" He hoped they cared enough. If they didn't, they'd be in deep shit, and that would still be the understatement of the year.
Perhaps he was lucky, or maybe there really was such a thing as a god, although he was leaning towards the former, because the witches did stop, although a couple of them did urge him to kill Hallow. Apparently, many of her coven members had been threatened into joining, and they hated her guts. "It's so much better to be respected than feared," Logan told the trapped Hallow. She couldn't do anything to him. He didn't know why, and he didn't especially care right now, as long as he didn't end up with his memories wiped again.
"Fuck you!" she spat at him.
"I bet you wish you could," said the Wolverine. "Unfortunately for you, I have standards, low as they are. You don't make the cut."
Thank God for rude, uncultured, atheist and amnesiac nephilim. There were very few people who could be hit directly by the spells of such a powerful witch and simply not be affected, at least not adversely. Theodora saw his power grow and his true nature begin to emerge. It was a beautiful thing to witness, and she could not believe that she was seeing it. Nephilim were rare. Nephilim who were not bent on conquering the world and who had so much compassion were even rarer. This was definitely Gabriel's son, not that there was much doubt about that in the first place.
The witches who hadn't surrendered —a minority— had been rounded up and contained. Many of them were acting like zombies, thanks to Charles Xavier. That man was definitely something to reckon with; it was simply fortunate for all of them that he wasn't that ambitious and was altogether altruistic. The other witches, who had surrendered, were being interviewed for information about Hallow's plans and allies. They were right about the witch having vampire supporters. Peter Threadgill, King of Arkansas, was mobilizing his army even as they were speaking. Theodora quickly made a series of phone calls to her sister and, more importantly, her father. Sibylla would be reluctant to outright intervene, even if she might secretly send agents down south or plan some financial sabotage, as she was so adept at doing, because she had her own kingdom and its welfare to worry about. She couldn't let all the other monarchs in the Americas view her as being more threatening to them than she already was.
However, Theodora's father, Eric's blood brother, had the means and the motivation to send in reinforcements. After all, he already had people in the United States. Humans, of course, but they were his humans—his human descendants, rather— and they were very loyal. Moreover, he didn't have to worry about the threat of other American vampire monarchs. They simply couldn't touch him, because he had far too much influence in the world arena, and not just in the vampire world.
The thing about her father was that he didn't limit his circle to supes. Rather, he preferred to use his own family. Ibelins stuck together; that was his life's philosophy, and he hadn't done too badly by sticking to it. Using family connections, he now ruled most of southern Europe, and had his fingers in just about every continent in the world. The family business of organized crime —amongst other things— spanned the globe. Balian was of the opinion that if he didn't organize it, there would be even more death and chaos in the world, because if he wasn't running it, someone else would be. Better him than someone else, because at least he had ethics and was rather effective at limiting collateral damage. There was no arguing with him on this point. Sometimes, she couldn't really stand her father because of their conflicting opinions, but she loved him, and he would do anything to help her. It was often said that Balian of Ibelin didn't have a heart. They said that when he was alive, and they were still saying it after he 'died'. However, they were all wrong. Her father's heart belonged to his family. He would die for her mother, and for her as well. There was never any doubt about that. It was just that Theodora wanted to make her own way as Theodora, not as part of the Ibelin dynasty, which was now better known as the Sicilian Mafia.
"Just tell me what you need, ma fille," said her father. "Eric's my brother; I would do anything he needs me to do."
"Eric would probably prefer it if you stayed out of it, but we really need manpower, at this point in time," said Theodora. Her father agreed to mobilize the branches of the Mafia in the Americas. Most of them were situated in the north of the country, where there was money to be made, but some were in Florida, and there was actually a branch in Arkansas.
"Mississippi was too dangerous with Edgington as king, and Eric would not have ever spoken to me ever again if I stationed a mafia in Louisiana, so that left Arkansas," Balian explained. "I wanted someone in that area to monitor activity in the south. Your sister has very little influence down there."
"It's good to know that you're still pursuing your world domination plan, Papa," said Theodora drily. Seven hundred years—no, wait. It was closer to eight hundred. Eight hundred years, and her father hadn't changed one bit. He'd been ambitious as a human, and he was ambitious as a vampire.
"A man must have something to challenge him," her father replied.
"You mean to tell me that Mother has no part in this?"
"You know that your mother is involved in everything I do. We agree on everything." Oh, didn't she know that. It was hopeless, trying to get one parent to side with her. Her parents only ever sided with one another. They were so much in love that they were the male and female halves of the same person. She couldn't ever remember a time when they disagreed. "Has my brother regained his memories?"
"We're working on that," said Theodora as she glanced towards the living room, where Hallow's mind was being rifled through by Charles Xavier, who was taking this chance to show Sookie just how to look for thoughts that she wanted to hear, instead of simply listening to the thoughts that someone was thinking right at that moment. There was nothing better than practical learning, after all.
Hallow looked as if she was in great pain; she probably was, judging by the way she was fighting the intrusions into her mind. Charles finally released her and looked up to face all of them. "I have her method," he said.
Sookie's kitchen counter was obscured by jar upon jar of ingredients. They weren't normal ingredients either, because the glass jars contained things such as tarantula fangs and newts' eyeballs. Ew. Claudine and Theodora had both made phone calls, requesting back up and aid. The latter had contacted yet another group of witches in Britain this time, and asked them to send over ingredients for fixing memory spells. "This is rare," said the ex-vampire, holding up a small vial of white powder that looked just like chalk. "Powdered horn of a unicorn."
"There are unicorns?" said Sookie incredulously.
"Of course," said Theodora, setting the vial down carefully. "All those myths that you hear; they all have factual basis."
"So there are really leprechauns and they really have lots of gold," said Sookie.
"Yes," said Theodora. "But the gold disappears after one night, so it's useless."
"How come I never meet those kinds of supes?" muttered Sookie. It would be so much better than just vampires and werewolves. Granted, she'd met two faeries too, and one succubus, but still. Every little girl had wanted a unicorn of her own.
"They prefer the old world, and most of them are rare now, at least on this plane," said Claudine. "If you get a chance to visit my home, I promise you that you will see some, dear cousin, although you might find them to be less pleasant than you think they are. Leprechauns, for example, are tricky creatures."
"And they have personal hygiene problems," added Theodora as she hauled one of Gran's giant soup pots out of one of the cupboards. It completely dwarfed her. She set it on the stove. Her email was open, with a list of possible potions for memory loss. Claudine was studying them and comparing them with Hallow's spell. The two of them did discuss it, but most of that discussion went over Sookie's head. Judging by the glazed looks on everyone else's faces, none of them got it either.
The faerie and the ex-vampire began adding ingredients into the pot. Sookie was pretty sure she would never use that pot for cooking ever again. Claudine had to be careful not to touch the pot, because it was iron. She wore gloves and left most of the mixing to the other woman. "Stir it seven hundred and twenty degrees clockwise, and then five hundred and forty anti-clockwise," said the faerie.
"It makes a difference?" said Logan.
"Of course," said Claudine. "Magic is a very precise craft. One degree extra clockwise could mean all the difference."
"Which is why the art of potion making is so difficult to master," said Theodora. "Other things, such as regular charms and jinxes, have a certain amount of room for error."
"Inaccuracy in potion-making is disastrous," said Claudine. "I believe the human equivalent is Chemistry."
"I never really got Chemistry," said Logan.
"You just don't get science," said Mystique, earning herself a glare from the Wolverine.
The resulting concoction looked like pond scum and smelled even worse. Actually, one of the ingredients had been a certain type of pond scum. There was also blood, taken from both Eric and Hallow, as well as Marie, because her presence had actually influenced Hallow's spell. Powdered unicorn horn had gone in next, followed by three tongues from horned toads, which had been ground into a disgusting paste. There was an entire host of other ingredients, most of which were disgusting. Sookie felt a bit sorry for Eric. After all, he was the one who'd have to drink the potion.
"This should do it," said Theodora as she ladled some of that disgusting stuff into Sookie's favourite coffee mug, which immediately ceased to be her favourite.
"Is this drinkable?" asked Eric as he took the mug a little distrustfully. It was hard to blame him. Sookie would ask the same question if she were in his place.
"Just try not to think about it, vampire," said Claudine sympathetically.
Eric sniffed the mixture, which was still steaming, and the expression of disgust on his face was comical. He steeled himself, and then poured the mixture down his throat. Just as well he didn't need to breathe. Immediately, he started coughing and choking, probably from the taste. Both potion makers looked nervous as they waited for their concoction to work...or not. Usually, when a vampire consumed something that was not blood, they would immediately throw it back up. That didn't happen with the potion. Granted, they'd used True Blood as a base, instead of 'Centaur's milk'. That probably made it more vampire-friendly.
He sat down. If his face could have grown paler, if would have. As it was, he just looked ill. "Eric?" said Pam. "Come on, do not scare me. Say something!"
"I remember," he whispered. "Everything. It's as if it all happened yesterday. It's...it's..." Well, considering how vast his memories were and how bloody they must be, it would be quite overwhelming for it all to come rushing back at once, in HD as well.
"You're not gonna have an emotional breakdown, are you, bub?" asked Logan. "Because it's okay, y'know."
"Of course not," Eric snapped. Eric Northman did not have emotional breakdowns. Sookie wondered if Logan ever did, judging by his question and his opinion that it was all right to have one. "I'm fine." It wasn't as convincing as he'd meant for it to be, and everyone knew it. Theodora pointed at the living room, indicating that everyone should just leave him alone for a moment to get his thoughts together. Eric was Eric. He would survive.
They started to file out of the kitchen, but Eric stopped them. "I am a recovering amnesiac, not an invalid," he said. His temper was short. No one could blame him, really. The fact that he was having an adverse reaction to everything that had happened actually convinced Sookie that there was more human in him that he would care to admit. Perhaps he wouldn't be so bad for Marie after all. "I need to deal with Arkansas. Any new reports?"
"They're mobilizing," said Theodora. "Judging by the speed they're heading towards Louisiana, I'd say they would reach Shreveport by two in the morning, if not earlier."
"How do you know their speed?" asked Logan.
"I hacked a few traffic cameras," said Mystique.
"How many do they have?" demanded Eric. "I want all the details."
"I'd say two to three hundred," said Theodora. "We have fifty in Shreveport right now, not counting the mutants. Sibylla's not sending anyone over, although but the Mafia branch in Arkansas is mobilizing as we speak. They'll attack Threadgill's headquarters in five hours and ten minutes."
"What...Mafia?" said Logan. At the same time, Eric leapt to his feet.
"You called Balian?" he demanded.
"Of course I called my father!" said Theodora indignantly. "Desperate times call for desperate measures. I actually managed to convince him not to personally come. You know he would've."
"It would be an effective way to prevent an attack on Louisiana from being successful, if your father's men attack Arkansas," said Claudine. "But are they prepared enough? We are dealing with vampires, not your regular...what do you call them?"
"Gangsters," Sookie supplied.
"My father is a vampire himself. Trust me; our people know how to deal with fangsters."
Her Eric was back...well, normal Eric was back. Eric didn't belong to anyone except himself, really, and that wasn't likely to change anytime soon. Still, there was every reason for her to be both happy and nervous. Marie's life now seemed like a constant war, although, if given the choice, she'd have made the same decisions all over again. There was nothing that she regretted. Not at all. Finally, she'd found her place in the world. She'd never thought she'd come this far, to be honest.
She pulled on her uniform. That fabric never ceased to amaze her. It also made her feel incredibly self-conscious. She did not have the body of a supermodel and she knew it. Ideally, if it had been up to here, there would be a couple of places on her that would be a lot more prominent, and some that would not be so prominent.
"I do love that uniform on you," said Eric, poking his head around the door. She saw him leering at her in the mirror. That was a great way to boost one's self confidence. Granted, Eric's tastes weren't the best, if one were to look at things critically —he'd slept with Yvetta, after all, as well as a host of other fangbangers— but it still gave her a real thrill to think that he wanted her, and had wanted her enough to reject sexual advances from the likes of the stripper witch, who, by the way, was being held in poor Bill's house. Speaking of which, she really ought to thank Bill for saving her life during the battle.
"You do know that a closed door indicates that the person within wants privacy, right?" said the mutant, not that embarrassed at all. Eric had seen all of her, after all. Come to think of it, he'd pretty much licked all of her too. And she was only putting on her uniform at the moment, not taking a bath or something like that.
"I don't think you mind me intruding on your privacy, my little succubus," he said as he glided behind her to help her zip up the back of the suit, gently lifting her hair out of the way.
"Please, don't start on that," groaned Marie. Yes, this succubus business was confusing and tiring. It was also a possible indicator that her mother had cheated on her father with a female, which was disturbing on its own. One did not like to think of one's parents having sex. "It doesn't change anything. I'm still me."
"Oh, I know that, but it does explain some things," mused Eric as he gently stroked her neck. If she let him continue along this vein, she was going to end up undressed again very soon. It wasn't constructive, considering they were going to be fighting for the sovereignty of Louisiana very soon. "It does explain your prowess, if you get my meaning. Succubae are very sexual creatures."
"Now you make it sound as if you like me because of the sex, and nothing else," she said, pushing him away in mock hurt. "And really, this power sucks, no pun intended."
"Now, now, my lover. You know better than that," he said. "By the way, I appreciate your power, although it's not the only thing I appreciate." That was almost like saying he had feelings for her. She knew him well enough to know that he hated having feelings and spent a lot of his time trying to convince himself that he was a pragmatic heartless bastard. The vampire grew slightly more solemn. "You know, when I was...cursed, I still remembered the way you felt to me. It helped." This was the closest Eric would ever come to admitting that he was emotionally dependent, or in any way dependent, on others. If there was anything that he really treasured, it was his independence. "Theodora told me that you interrupted Hallow's spell."
"Succubus powers," said Marie. "I know."
"It's not just that," said Eric. "What do you know of magic?"
"Not much; just that it's not scientific."
"Magic is very much dependent upon the will of the wielder. My niece speculates that your loyalty to me caused your power to interfere with the witch's magic, and lessen its effect." She knew exactly what he was trying to say. He was trying to, in a very roundabout way that wouldn't ruin his reputation, thank her for the way she felt about him. It helped that she could sense his emotions through the skin contact. She stood on her tiptoes, pulled him down, and kissed him on the lips. There was no better way of saying, 'you're welcome'.
"Let's hope that my loyalty and succubus powers will help us win this battle too," she said a little breathlessly after the kiss finally ended. If she didn't need to breathe, their kisses probably would never end.
"I have no doubt about your skills, my lover," said the vampire. "But do be careful, and try not to get killed or blown up, or else I'll have to kiss you a lot more to make sure that you don't experience more explosions than kisses."
"If I remember clearly, you don't mind doing it. It was you who insisted on kissing me in the first place."
"Are you implying that I started it? Lover, I was only responding to your body's requests."
"Will you not claim responsibility for what you did, Mr. Northman? I was only a poor innocent girl with very little experience back then. You are my corrupter."
"Believe me, Lover. You wanted very much to be corrupted. I did you a favour."
There was a cough at the door. "As much as I like dirty talk meself, we gotta discuss some borin' battle strategies, savvy?" said Jack. "So hurry along now. Ye can twist yerselves into nasty positions later. Mebbe ye can give ole Jack a demonstration, eh?"
Eric growled at the lawyer, who gave him a brilliant grin and a little bow before sauntering off to annoy the next person on his list.
"Sookie, may I speak with you in private?"
Bill's request could not have come at a worse time. Sookie was far too worried about the impending battle to dwell on her relationship problems. Within two months, she'd had two bad relationships. Things were not looking good for her on this front, and really, she did not need to be reminded of how Bill had stalked and betrayed her. She thought about that enough already. "This is not a good time, Bill," she said, a little more curtly than she'd intended to.
"Now may be the only time," said the Civil War veteran. "Sookie, I know you may find it difficult to forgive me. I'm finding it difficult to forgive myself, but—"
"Bill, when I said not now, I meant not now," said the telepath as patiently as she could. If there hadn't been a battle looming before her, that vampire wouldn't even be in her house right now. She just didn't want to see him. "I don't want to hear any of this. I'm not ready to hear it."
"I must say it now, however, or else I fear I might not ever have the courage to say it again," said the vampire.
"No, stop," said Sookie, holding up a hand. "I know what you're trying to say, Bill. I know you still have feelings for me, but it's over between us. Yes, you didn't know me when you watched the Rattrays beat me to almost to death and did nothing, but I just can't be in a relationship with someone who would just stand there whilst someone's dying right before their eyes."
"You must remember that I am vampire—"
"Maybe, but that only convinces me that I don't want to be in a relationship with any vampire."
"Sookie, I love you."
"I'm flattered, Bill, but I don't love you." She'd spent long enough convincing herself of that. There would always be some part of her that ached for him, or rather, for the relationship she'd thought they'd had before the illusion had shattered. The worst part was that he could sense it, thanks to his blood in her system. "And whatever it is that you feel, that's just the blood talking. You tricked me into falling in love with you. It's a lie; it's a drug induced lie."
"Sookie, please—"
"Just leave me alone, and don't make it worse than it already is, all right? I don't have eternity, and I don't want to waste any more time on whatever it was that we had."
"Is this what you thought it was? A waste of time? The blood does not create feelings. It only enhances what is already there. What you felt for me, and what you are still feeling, is real, Sookie. What we had was real...mostly. And for what is worth, my feelings for you are real too. I did not have to feign interest. From the moment you risked your life to save mine, I was interested in you."
"As a project, of course."
"Not entirely. I will admit that when I first met you, you were only something I was sent to procure, but after that...it was difficult. I owed my queen fealty, but I also wanted you because of who you are, and I wanted to protect you. It was a moral dilemma for me."
"You wanted to protect me, so you let two psychos beat me almost to death before intervening and taking the chance to feed me your blood, which, by the way, will tie me to you for as long as I live. Thanks, but I don't need that kind of 'protection'."
"I do not deny that I fed you my blood mostly out of selfish reasons, but it was also to save your life and to ensure that I would know when you were in danger." Bill cast his eyes downward. "I know that I do not have much of a chance of regaining your favour, but I just want you to know that no matter where you go or who you're with, Sookie Stackhouse, you will always have my love and loyalty. I owe you that much."
A/N: I believe this is the beginning of Mopey Bill that we're all pretty much familiar with. I can't help but feel a little bit sorry for him. Even though what he's done is unforgivable, it doesn't mean that he shouldn't get a chance to redeem himself and change himself for the better. And yes, I am bringing in elements of Harry Potter because those witches and wizards are going to get a cameo. This is a smorgasbord crossover.