Downstairs in the living room Eric was holding Fredrick, feeding him from a bottle. He stared down at his little man, or vampire, or Bintaur, whatever he'd be. It didn't matter to Eric, not one damned bit. Only a few times in his life had something grounded him to make him feel content, happy, grateful. Yet at that moment it affected him more potently than anything else, other than having Connee in his life.
He was brought out of his thoughts when a soft cloth brushed down his cheek. He didn't feel embarrassed or ashamed that Frannie had wiped away a tear. He just felt for Connee.
"You have a hungry one there," she said quietly so as not to wake the baby, who had just closed his eyes but was still softly suckling.
"Did you notice—" Eric started to say a little too loud; the baby had jerked in his arm. "Did you see her ears in the library?" he asked more quietly.
"Yes. She hasn't eaten in days. Hey, the baby's almost done. Let me burp him and you go see her. Ask Linda for a bag of O Positive and take it to her."
Within seconds the baby was in Frannie's arms and Eric raced out of the room to the basement, first to the doctor's office then to the door that Connee was in. He had forgotten it was locked electronically, and he needed the combo to get in.
"1023," he heard Frannie tell him from upstairs.
He punched the numbers into the box then rushed in, stopping just short of being burned from the silver bars. He was not surprised at all that she hadn't even moved since they'd left only an hour earlier.
"Connee, love, here. Take this." He loosened the cap a little bit to make it easier for her to get the blood. He aimed between the dangerous bars and threw the bag of blood a few inches from her hand. "Eat." She didn't reply. "Damnit! Eat!"
She still didn't say anything. Instead she slowly reached out for the bag, pulled her arm back and threw it right back toward him. It hit a bar, but the lid was loose and it popped off, spattering him all over with blood. "Fuck!" he cursed then stepped back, but by then it was too late. "Is this the way you want it?! Fine! Starve for all I care!"
He slammed the door shut behind him and promptly punched a hole in the wall. He cared.
He went upstairs, not wanting to hear a word from the queen. "You'll need to hire someone to replace the hole I just put in the wall," he said nonchalantly as he walked in then out of the room. "I'm taking a shower."
An hour later Eric made another attempt, hoping that time Connee would stop being such a brat and eat. He entered the room and shook his head because she hadn't moved. He figured as much. Without saying a word, he loosened the cap and threw it within her reach. She didn't touch it.
He could do nothing to make her eat, so he turned to leave. "Er'c," a soft whisper reached his ears.
"What?!" He didn't turn around.
"My ears ... nose ... bleeding."
"What do you want me to do about it?"
"Am I dying?"
"Yes," he replied then left her alone again.
He walked past Frannie at the top of the stairs. he told her, "There's another hole to repair."
"Didn't you think one hole was enough, Sheriff?!" she retorted, but her voice was sympathetic. "Did she eat?"
"No."
Frannie didn't know if he answered her first question or her second.
Eric took to the sky trying to clear his mind, which didn't help. Only half an hour had gone by before he went back to Connee. Before entering the room he looked through the peep hole. "I'll be damned."
She was in the middle of the cage kneeling, the blood bag empty at her feet, her hands were palms up and placed over her thighs, her head down. He was taken aback and appalled at how bad she looked. Her face was completely covered in blood, from under her eyes to the sides of her face, even under her nose and chin. A coating of blood sheened her skin from her collarbone all the way underneath the robe.
He rushed to get another bag of blood and returned, put on protective gloves to open the silver door and knelt beside her. Regardless of her submissiveness, he told her softly, "Eat. You've got to eat."
He removed the lid's cap and brought it to her mouth. She reached for the bag and brought the lip of it to her mouth; he never let go of the bag. She drank it down as if she'd been dying of thirst in the desert, which basically she had been. Yet she remained composed enough not to spill a drop, or lose control as she had before.
"That's it. Good girl." When it was completely empty, he pulled it away; she returned to her pose. "Will you eat more?" She simply nodded.
Eric was well of aware of her manipulation, trickery and failed attempts at escape. By her giving him the only thing she had left, maybe she was genuinely ready to prove herself. He wanted to believe her, he really did. But he had to give her a chance, didn't he?
Test one: "You'll stay? You won't move?" She shook her head. "Will I have to lock the cage door?" Again she shook her head.
With lightning speed he went to the refrigerator where the blood was kept and grabbed a bag. Stepping out of the office he came to abrupt stop, counted to a hundred as slowly as he could, which was really only about five seconds, then hurried back to her, stopping in the threshold of the cage. "I'll be damned, again." She was still in the pose.
Passed test one.
"Are you done?" She nodded. "If I let you out you'll behave?" She nodded. "You'll listen to your mother?" She nodded.
Test two: With a minuscule amount of skepticism that held him back, he said, "Come." She remained still.
Failed test two.
"That's what I thought."
"nt ..."
"What did you say?" he barked.
" ... can't ... weak."
A gurgle erupted from the back of his throat, although he thought it might have been his heart. He went to her, sat beside her, pulled her into his lap, bit into his wrist and placed it over her mouth. Instantly she grabbed his wrist, latched onto the puncture spot and drank from him. He gave her all that he could to give her life, just as she had given him life.
Not even a minute went by before he could feel the wound begin to close up, so he pulled it away. She whined from the back of her throat while he opened it again and returned his wrist to her mouth. As she fed, he began to feel strength return to her body, as she had just enough to bend up her legs.
"Okay, okay, that's enough," he said as he took back his hand and held onto her as tight as he could from behind, rocking her back and forth. "How are you feeling now?"
"Better."
"Remember, I've got a grip on you, so if you think—"
"I won't."
"Riight, I've heard that before."
"I won't," she repeated.
"Do you need to eat more?"
"No. Eric," she started, twisting her body enough so that she could look up at him. "How long will . . . I don't know if . . . the baby—"
"You will. We'll help you." He understood her concerns completely.
Her body shuttered. "The things I said, did—"
"Stop, right now. It'll pass, I promise."
"Promise?"
"Yes, little one. The sun is almost up, and you need rest."
"No, wait, wait, please," she begged. "I am so sorry for the way I behaved."
"I was never worried, my love. I have been patient for a thousand years to find someone like you. And now that I have, I am not about to let you go."
"Even after the way I acted?"
"Because of how you behaved. You are a fighter, Connee Byers. I wouldn't have you any other way. Now, enough of this. You need to take a long, hot bath and sleep."
As they walked out of the room with her cradled in his arms, her head on his collarbone, she mumbled, "Eric, why are there holes in the wall?"
"Your mother was so angry with you she punched the wall."
"I did no such thing," Frannie said as she met them in the hall, a huge, relieved smile on her lips.
A/N: I know I majorly faux-paised (spelling?) in that I've made Eric TOO human! Is that a good thing or a bad thing? I'm not sure. What do y'all think? Should they continue their D/s relationship? Any suggestions would help! Glad y'all are reading and enjoying.
