Chapter 18
Fear and Family
x
Louisiana, 2008
It was a mild winter, and for that Sookie was grateful. Though she was bundled beneath a heavier jacket, she still managed to wear the standard short-shorts of the Merlotte's uniform too. Sookie hated the cold. She didn't mind the snow, but that was only because it was such a rarity in Bon Temps that it felt more like a gift than a curse. The other type of cold–cold without benefit, unrelenting, with only grey skies and a chilled breeze to show for it–was the worst type of weather. As the sun went down, Sookie felt the first reachings of that persistent temperature begin.
Goosebumps rose on the bare flesh of her legs and she shoved her arms deeper within the jacket. Arlene's red hair was backlit by the low setting sun, the individual strands alight and on fire. Arlene sucked on her cigarette, the smoke blowing outward in a cloud of grey. She'd been distant since the death–or, in her mind, the disappearance–of her boyfriend, René. Only Sookie and Eric knew the truth of his passing, knew his history and his crimes. They'd decided to spare Arlene some of that pain, inflicting a more casual, familiar sentence on the poor woman: abandonment. Through glamour, Eric planted René's sudden disappearance, gone without a trace.
Sookie had anticipated Arlene's sadness, her feeling of betrayal. What she had not anticipated in her mind was the steely acceptance, the expectation that her relationship with René was bound to end in abandonment from the very start. It made Sookie feel worse, that perhaps her decision had been the wrong one. Eric had wanted to erase René from Arlene's mind completely, wanted him to become a curious black spot on her memory. She'd convinced him otherwise, told him it did not do to erase the good just to get rid of the bad. She remembered his face when she'd spoken those words: thunderstruck, then focused. He'd done as she'd said without a second glance.
But that night, searching Arlene's mind on her smoke break, Sookie wondered if Eric had been right all along.
"How are you feelin'?" Sookie asked, running both hands over Arlene's bare arms, using friction to warm the chilled skin there.
"Oh y'know, the usual," Arlene muttered, her mind flashing to her empty home, her stress, her kids running wild, the laundry not finished, the dishes in the sink, the mud stains on her kitchen floor.
"Look, Arlene," Sookie grimaced, "If you ever need any help 'round your house you know you just gotta ask, right?"
"I don't need no pity. I can take care of myself," Arlene replied nastily, affronted. She was a proud woman and Sookie respected her for it.
"It would get me out of my own house is all," Sookie replied easily, pulling back the offer slightly. "It would do me some good. Plus, I ain't seen your kids in so long, I really miss 'em."
Arlene contemplated this for a moment. Sookie could hear her tempting herself with a night out, a few hours to get her hair done, some alone time away from the kids just to watch that rom-com she'd rented, the tape gathering dust in the VCR.
"Well, I'll think about it," Arlene allowed, still nursing her pride. "I'm sure the kids would love to see you too and all."
Sookie smiled as Arlene threw the butt of her cigarette to the ground, stomping out the glowing tip with her foot. They were closing that night and it was a Friday, the rowdiest shift Sookie worked and therefore her least favorite. Things were already starting to heat up, the crowds coming steadily through the door after the dinner rush took their meandering leave. Sam stayed behind bar on Fridays, partly because the orders came in quicker than he could fill them and partly because he needed to know who had to be cut off and when. Sookie and Arlene spent the next few hours ferrying pints to tables, groups of older men, a few truckers, teenagers trying to pass for adults with fake IDs, and the regulars. Even Jason stopped by for a while with his friend Hoyt, though they'd left pretty early to catch a game playing at the sports bar closer to Shreveport.
As the rush began to slow, Sookie lugged out the Christmas decorations from the storage closet and began to set them up. Little paper snowflakes dangling from the window ledges on strings, light-up candy canes, a sprig of mistletoe that Sam always "coincidentally" placed above the employee's only entrance. She was plugging in the last of the string lights when she felt the presence of a void enter Merlotte's. She looked up, confused, not having expected Eric to arrive until after her shift ended.
The vampire in question was already staring at her, and it definitely wasn't Eric. It was a woman, tall, striking, hair a fiery red, though it was natural, not dyed like Arlene's. She held herself with an air of authority, looking down her nose at Sookie. It didn't help that Sookie was quite literally crouched on the floor, the extension cord nearly forgotten in her hands. Sookie stood abruptly, dusting off her shorts in what she hoped was a casual act. She then turned away from the vampire, making eye contact with Sam in the process. He, too, was staring at Sookie and he did not look happy.
The vampire walked slowly through the bar, her seductive eyes cataloguing the space around her with mild contempt. It was as if she were giving permission to the other inhabitants to gaze upon her; and gaze, they did. All eyes–particularly of the young, male variety–were on her. Their thoughts were crude, driven by lust, though many also felt a hint of fear. It was the subconscious aura all vampires radiated, even when the humans had not yet confirmed that a supernatural being was in their presence there was still an underlying uneasiness that could not be shaken.
"What does a girl have to do to get a seat in this fine establishment?" the vampire asked, draping herself across the bar. The two men closest to her debated internally whether they should lean forward or away. Each gripped their drinks tightly.
"Take any available booth," Sam replied warily. Sookie felt his general uneasiness, flashes of his thoughts betraying a deeper worry that she was not expecting. Between Bill and Eric, Merlotte's had seen its fair share of vampire clientele in the past few months. While Sam was annoyed upon their arrival, it wasn't usually any more than that. This, however, was more.
The vampire didn't move. She seemed to be waiting for something, her eyebrow arched skyward as she stared at Sam.
"Your majesty," Sam mumbled begrudgingly, ducking his head nearly imperceptibly. The vampire smiled, turning away from him swiftly and placing herself in a booth smack dab in the middle of Sookie's section. She bore a striking dichotomy to her setting, perfectly made-up as she was. She wore only varying shades of white and cream, from her pearl earrings all the way down to her delicate pumps. The fabric was spotless, clearly expensive, and fell off her body effortlessly, like there was no seam. It floated, gravity an unimportant inconvenience to her ethereal glow. Sookie approached cautiously, her hand wrapping around her pen as if it were a weapon.
With Eric, she never felt uncomfortable around other vampires. After all, she spent most of her time at Fangtasia with him and there were plenty of vampires there to speak of. But she was under his protection and it was his domain. Now, he was miles away in Shreveport, and Sam had just given this vampire a royal title, two facts that put Sookie rightfully on edge.
"What can I get you?" Sookie asked after swallowing down her fear, her smile closer to a grimace than a grin.
"Have a seat," the vampire said with a cordial expression, ignoring her question. She gestured to the bench opposite her in the booth, her nails long with conservative French tips.
"Sorry, on the clock. Gotta keep serving," Sookie said hastily, moving to back away.
"Have a seat," the vampire reiterated, her face no longer allowing any type of refusal. Sookie glanced at Sam warily. He still watched them from his spot at the bar, his brow furrowed with concern as he cleaned the glasses. Sookie wished more than anything that he could read minds, wished they could communicate in an unspoken way. It was so frustrating to be a telepath, always taking and never giving, always hearing but never speaking. Sookie put the thought out of her head, sliding into the booth and focusing instead on the silent void sat across from her. She took a deep breath, letting it out through her nose slowly, her hands growing warm with the effort to remain calm.
"Sookie Stackhouse." The vampire was smiling again. "Is that right?"
"That's me. Have we met?" Sookie asked, trying to be polite but finding it very difficult.
"No, but I have heard so much about you. Mutual friends," she replied, waving her hand as if it were of no importance.
"Funny, 'cause I don't know a thing about you," Sookie said, some attitude in her tone.
The vampire laughed, a shocking transformation of her features taking place in under an instant. Beneath her red lips, Sookie catalogued her pearly white teeth, the threatening points of her sheathed fangs glinting beneath the seasonal string lights.
"I forget myself. My name is Sophie-Anne, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Sookie noticed then that Sophie-Anne had a bit of an accent, something guttural, seductive and raspy. It added a dangerous layer to her attitude, exacerbated only further when her features hardened once again. "I've been dying to meet you."
"You're already dead," Sookie quipped. This time, Sophie-Anne did not laugh. She didn't even smile. Her hand darted out, quicker than Sookie could catch, and grasped Sookie's wrist. Her touch was cool, so alike Eric's yet so foreign. It made the hair on the back of Sookie's neck rise, made her spine convulse in an automatic shiver. Slowly, Sophie-Anne lifted Sookie's wrist to her nose, inhaling deeply, her lips curling into a sneer.
"Ah, yes. Just as Bill described," she whispered, her eyes closed, relishing the scent. Sookie could see the tremble of her fangs, the automatic elongation of the teeth.
"Bill Compton?" Sookie asked in disgust, trying to pull her arm away. Sophie-Anne opened her eyes but did not release Sookie.
"You don't like him," she observed with interest. "I don't either, to be quite frank. He bores me and the Southern charm he's always attempting to carry over from his human life is a tiresome trope. But, he's a fantastic procurer. He found you, didn't he?"
"I don't know what you mean. I want to see Eric."
Sophie-Anne rolled her eyes, clucking her tongue.
"Demands? From a half-blood Fae who can't even use her powers? Please," she scoffed.
"Let me go," Sookie said quietly but angrily. There was a quick flash of light, like the burst of an old bulb. Sophie-Anne released her abruptly, clutching her palm, the pale flesh darkened as if burnt. But it lasted only a moment, the skin healing before Sookie's eyes, back once more to pristine, untouched perfection. Sophie-Anne examined her palm for a long moment, Sookie holding her breathing as she did so. Sookie's hands tingled, the light so similar to what she'd seen before in the deep, dark wood, René only moments from closing in. Sookie did not have time to contemplate anything further, for in an instant she was pressed against the back wall of the bar, Sophie-Anne's fangs hovering threateningly above her neck.
Sookie felt the fear roll through her like a tide, a rush from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. There was nothing more she could do, no fight she had left. She felt drained even though Sophie-Anne had not yet bit. The bar had fallen silent, the formerly raucous crowd enraptured by the impossible scene before them. Sophie-Anne paused, took a step back.
"Unfortunately, I am the seller, not the buyer," she said, "Though how I long to test the merchandise." Her gaze wandered once more to Sookie's neck, the pulse point of her throbbing artery, the temptation of both taste and touch.
The piercing ring of Merlotte's telephone broke the silence and the spell. Sophie-Anne whipped around, her fangs bared. She growled once then sheathed them, controlling her features into performance, exhibiting only a placid, congenial smile.
"Enjoy your night, sweet humans," she said, and was gone before the door had shut behind her. Sookie slumped, resting her back against the wall, utterly exhausted yet pumped full of adrenaline, a mixture at war within her. The crowd mumbled to each other, eying Sookie first, beginning quiet, gossip-driven conversations amongst themselves. Sookie, always strange, always the outcast. She could hear their thoughts, their suspicions. How she was just a fangbanger, how she brought danger to their quiet, conservative community, how she was a bad seed. Mothers worried for their sons; could they be ensnared by Sookie's wiles? What was she capable of?
"Sookie!" It was Sam, the phone trapped between his cheek and shoulder as he waved her over. She walked slowly, tentatively. When she got close enough, he pulled her into a hug; a clear act of defiance against the crowd's growing unease with her presence. He placed the phone down on the counter, stroking her hair soothingly. "Let's go to the back, c'mon."
He put the call on hold, hanging up the phone and walking with Sookie to his office.
"You okay?" he asked after shutting the door.
"Yeah," Sookie mumbled, perching herself against Sam's desk. "I'm sorry about that, Sam."
"Hey, she had you pressed up against the wall, not the other way around. You know that vamp?"
"No, but it looked like you do? Why'd you call her 'Your Majesty'?" she asked.
"So you heard that," he grimaced. "The vampires have a pretty outdated chain of command. She's the Queen, technically. Of Louisiana. Eric's boss." Sam looked a bit satisfied with that last part, happy, perhaps, that there was an authority figure that stood above the vampire he so despised.
"Queen of Louisiana," Sookie repeated dubiously. She had a sudden, tangible memory of the smell of the Queen's burnt flesh.
"Speaking of Eric, he's on the phone. Look, Sook. I'm tired of all these vamps comin' around. This is my bar, y'know? And it's meant to be a space people can come without feelin' all worried all the time. There ain't many people here in Bon Temps and if they're scared to come I'm gonna go out of business. You understand."
"Sam–"
"Just talk to him, would ya? Ask him to keep the vamps away. That's all I'm askin'."
"I'll see what I can do," she replied, reaching for the phone. Eric was notoriously impatient, it wouldn't be long before he gave up on the hold and flew straight over to Merlotte's.
"Thanks, Sook. I'll give ya some privacy," he said, slinking back out and shutting the door behind him.
Sookie took a deep breath, working to steady her voice. She didn't want to rile Eric up; what she was about to tell him would make him angry enough without betraying her own fear and anxiety in the process.
"Sookie? What happened?" he asked abruptly, only a moment after she lifted the phone to her ear.
"Hi," she whispered, hearing the tremble in her own voice. Frustrated, she sat down on Sam's desk chair, pinching the bridge of her nose. Nothing had happened, she was fine, she hadn't been hurt. She needed to remain calm now. "How do you know somethin' happened?"
"Our bond, I can feel your fear," he explained quickly. "What happened?" he asked again.
"A vampire came to the bar–"
"Who?" he interrupted.
"Sophie-Anne?"
Sookie heard a muffled crash and a string of curses.
"Eric," she said into the phone, calling him back to her. "Eric, who is she?"
"It doesn't matter. To you, no one. I will take care of it."
Sookie huffed, annoyed by his lack of trust in her, his unwillingness to give her all of the information.
"Sam said she's a Queen of some kind. And your boss. And she said she was gonna sell me or somethin'. You have to tell me what's goin' on and don't lie to me." She was stern with him, her fist clenched at her side. She began to feel, for the second time in one night, a warmth growing within it.
"I'm coming over," he said. "Don't go anywhere."
"Eric, wait," she stopped him, hearing him pause in response. She thought of Sam, his request. It was the busiest night of the week and they'd already had a vampire disturbance. A second would surely mean a departure of many of his valued customers, perhaps for good. "Maybe it's best you stay away for a little bit."
There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Sookie worried that he'd not heard her, that he'd already left after all.
"Eric?" she asked.
"Is this about the bond? Do you regret it? It's a weak connection, I could only feel your fear because it was so potent. It will fade. We've only shared blood once. It's impermanent, I promise." All of his words came out in a rush, with hardly a space between the sentences. It came completely out of left field. She was nearly attacked by a vampire queen at her job and he was worried that she regretted sharing some of their blood? That he could feel her fear? It made no sense.
"What are you talking about?" Sookie said, stopping him before he could say any more. "I just mean Sam doesn't want any more vampires at Merlotte's tonight. It's bad for business. Meet me back at home."
Sookie could hear his slow exhale, the woosh of it into the phone's speaker.
"I'll be at your house once your shift ends," he said quietly, the line going dead with a click. Sookie lowered the phone from her ear, staring at it quizzically. Sometimes, when Eric spoke, she knew his sentences were laced with their great history. They were loaded, bloated with importance, and they left her confused and untethered in response. She'd hoped that their blood bond with resolve some of that tension, would close the gap. Instead, she'd begun to feel his emotions as he felt her's, begun to taste the importance beneath the mundane, the significance in the casual. It was a story of opposites no longer hidden. The volatility frightened her.
Eric was waiting on her porch when she drove up, her headlights coating him in yellow light. She turned off the ignition and he was at her door, opening it for her as she stepped out into the yard. The crickets chirped wildly, the cries of the dead of night, alive with the insects in chorus. She pushed herself beneath his arms, grateful when he encased her, his nose pressed to the top of her head, then his cheek, then his lips. A cool breeze blew around them, rustling her hair and placing it back down. She shivered, her bare knees knocking together.
"Come, it's cold," he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her down the drive, pushing her into the house like he couldn't get in fast enough. Gran had already drawn the curtains and stepping inside was like being enveloped in a warm hug. Already she began to feel more herself, the calmness of home seeping into her bones, her tense evening evaporating.
"What did she say to you?" Eric finally asked, hovering near her bedroom door, shoulder resting against the frame as she rooted through her dresser for a change of clothes.
"None of it made sense," she replied, suddenly exhausted, the weight of the day crushing down. "I wouldn't know where to start."
He came toward her then, stilling her movements, his palm pressed to her neck, brow furrowed in concentration.
"I'll run a bath," he said confidently, nodding his head to himself. She sighed, allowing him to tend to her, knowing it better than waking up the next day still smelling of stale beer and cheap cigarettes. He returned shortly, helping her out of her clothes, wrapping her in a towel, simple and clear acts of care. The water was warm, her fingers and toes tingling in response, blood flowing to her extremities in a rush. She sank into the deep, soapy liquid, her cheeks flushed, blonde hair piled atop her head. He sat down on the floor of the bathroom, a curious picture before her, dressed in black leather and looking all the world like a predator, yet surrounded by baby pink tile.
She rested her cheek against the lip of the tub, reaching with a wet hand toward his own until their fingers intertwined. He didn't push her; he simply waited, practiced as he was in the art, until her breathing steadied and she decided to speak.
"Is she your boss?" Sookie asked, figuring that was a good enough place to begin.
"In a manner of speaking," he said evasively.
"I don't want half-truths. I need to know what's goin' on if I'm gonna to protect myself," she snapped, the water splashing around her.
"I'll protect you," he replied simply, no edge to his voice.
"It has to be both. You know it."
He shifted slightly, averted his gaze.
"Sophie-Anne is the Queen of Louisiana. I'm the Sheriff of Area Five, which encompasses Shreveport, Bon Temps and some other backwater towns. Though she may be my boss, as you say," he said, putting air quotes around the word boss, "She is still a younger, weaker vampire than I am. It is not a threat."
"She seemed pretty confident when she showed up today."
"Confidence is one of her many follies," he smirked.
"So what are you gonna do, kill her?"
"Yes."
"Eric," she intoned.
"What? You said you did not want half-truths, this is the full truth."
"I know, but…" Sookie sighed. "It seems like a lot of trouble, is all. Like there could be a lot of repercussions."
"There likely will be."
"Then why?" she asked, leaning forward. "It's not worth it."
He moved quickly to a kneeling position, his leather jacket dangerously close to the suds, his blonde hair falling chaotically into his eyes, his face fiercely angular.
"It is worth it."
She swallowed, letting the declaration hover between them before speaking once more.
"It didn't seem like that would solve the problem, anyway. She said that Bill found me and that she was going to sell me. I mean, she didn't even bite me and she had the opportunity," Sookie continued, her hand unconsciously rising to her exposed neck. Eric's fangs dropped in response, a low growl deep in his chest. How quickly he switched from human to animal surprised her, it happened in the blink of an eye, in the reflex inhale of a gasp. "Eric, she called me half-blood Fae. They have it wrong, I'm human."
Again, Eric deflected, suddenly intent on his boot as it dug into the tile between them.
"Don't they have it wrong?" she pressed.
Eric swallowed, then met her eye with a sad smile.
"It's too much for one night. We'll talk about it tomorrow evening," he said, standing up and grabbing the towel from the rack. She considered protesting, but he was right. The water was going cold, a yawn growing on her lips, her body weak and tired. He gathered her in the towel, crushing her to his chest for an instant, his arms solid as stone around her. She tilted her head up, standing on her toes to reach his lips, feeling the exhale of his breath wash over her as he kissed her slowly once, twice, three times.
"Stay until dawn?" she asked, curled up on her side beneath the blankets, the aged leather of Eric's jacket soft between her fingers. He nodded, resting his palm against her face, stroking the skin there, up, down, then back up, until she drifted to sleep.
When she awoke, it was still dark out. Eric shook her arm, whispering in her ear quickly, something unintelligible, her consciousness half-asleep.
"What?" she mumbled, rubbing her eyes with her fists.
"There's someone coming up your drive," he said, moving to the window. "But I have to leave soon. It's nearly dawn." He was tense, angry, frustrated. She could both see it and feel it. Sookie pushed herself up from the bed, stumbling over to the window. In the early morning light, she could just make out the car rumbling its way up the dirt track.
It was a pick-up truck, red, a little worse for wear but otherwise in good condition. She recognized it immediately.
"Oh, don't worry," Sookie smiled, relieved. "That's just my cousin Hadley."
Portland, 1977
Hadley didn't want to go all the way to Portland. First of all, she hated the rain. Second of all, it was extremely far away from the portal. And, third of all, it was a complete and utter waste of her time. She knew of the special attention Niall paid toward his half-blood granddaughter, Sookie. She'd always known of it, but she'd never truly cared. As long as it didn't affect her personally, it truly didn't matter to her if Sookie was Niall's favorite. After all, it was often less enjoyable to be in the spotlight than it was to be out of it, especially if that spotlight was cast by someone as powerful as Niall.
Ever since Sookie had left Faerie and threatened to never return, Niall had been in a fit. He'd attempted to disown her, attempted to forget about her, attempted to erase her from the family line. When that didn't cause satisfaction, he decided to force her permanent return. And, as it turned out, Hadley was the chosen errand girl.
"Why not just let her be?" Hadley asked, her arms crossed tight over her chest.
"She's a member of the family and she's with a vampire," Niall snarled. "She's in danger. Perhaps he has glamoured her away from us. I will not let that stand."
"You know we can't be glamoured," Hadley replied. She was testing her limits with Niall, surely, but she wanted him to see his emotion blinded him to what was right.
"She's a half-blood. Perhaps she can be glamoured," Niall countered. "This is an order, Hadley. Find out who the vampire is, talk some sense into her and return her to me. She will thank us for it later."
"I cannot imagine it will be that easy but I will try, Grandfather," Hadley said, taking her leave. And that was exactly how she found herself on a cross-country flight from New York to Portland, smushed in the middle seat between one human who smelled like ketchup and another who just smoked what seemed to be an entire pack of cigarettes in the airplane bathroom.
Hadley held little prejudice against vampires, had actually known a handful who proved to be quite genuine and loyal, and had no intention of separating Sookie from her lover. All she would do was talk to the pair, determine if Sookie had been glamoured, then take her leave, reporting to Niall that she'd been unable to find them. Then Sookie would owe her a favor in the future, which was a debt she'd be glad to have. That was her mindset when she landed in PDX, hailing a cab to Sookie's last known location, a small apartment in the West Hills. She'd told Hadley of it during her last visit to Faerie, how it looked out over the city, how, sometimes, it rose above the low-hanging clouds. The sun was only just beginning to set when Hadley arrived; she figured her timing was impeccable, she would've hated to wait around just for the vampire to rise from his coffin.
Hadley shuddered at the thought. Though she did not hold deep-set enmity toward the species, that was a far cry from mating with one. Then again, Sookie was half-breed, and she always was a bit stranger than the rest of the family, a bit off. Hadley wouldn't put it past her to take up with a vampire
Sookie's surprise was clear as day when she opened the door to reveal Hadley waiting on the other side.
"What are you doing here?" she asked with a hint of underlying panic.
"Good to see you too, Sookie," Hadley greeted, rolling her eyes and pushing past her shoulder to enter. "I like what you've done with the place. It's cute."
"Did Niall send you?"
"Yeah, but don't worry about it. I'm not gonna break you guys up or anything. I just need to see the vampire."
"Why?" she asked, suddenly defensive. Hadley turned toward her, surprised. Perhaps Sookie had been glamoured after all. Why else would she be so nervous for Hadley to meet him?
"Because I do," she said evasively. "Is that a problem?"
"Actually, it is," Sookie said, her hands glowing at her sides. Hadley raised an eyebrow at the threat. Sookie was strong, but Hadley was pureblood and much stronger. Plus, Sookie had spent a great portion of the last millennium in the human realm. Hadley had not, rendering her abilities much more finely-tuned and ready for release.
"I wouldn't suggest that," Hadley said, gesturing to Sookie's palms, letting her own power grow in response. She felt it coil within her, the rubber band waiting to snap. It would take but a flick of the wrist.
"I don't want to hurt you. Please leave," Sookie said, her voice low, threatening.
"I'm not leaving without seeing the vampire," Hadley replied, dropping to a crouch. If Sookie attacked, she would be ready. Family or not. And it was Sookie who fired the first shot, a golden explosion ricocheting off the wall behind Hadley, somewhere just above her left ear. Hadley moved to action, dancing left and right as they sparred, first one shot and then the next, the light so bright it nearly blinded her. Hadley began to funnel her into a corner, a slow advance until Sookie had her back against the wall, pressed tightly with nowhere to run. "Drop them," Hadley ordered, poised to deliver the punishing blow. Sookie hesitated, just one quick inhale, her eyes darting over Hadley's shoulder an instant before the vampire struck.
Hadley felt fangs at her neck and cold arms locked around her chest, the strong, unrelenting grip she recognized from her years of fighting during The Decimation. She struggled, twisting, but her hands were locked to her sides. This vampire, too, had fought. He knew innately how to disable a fairy.
"Eric, don't!" Sookie cried, her eyes wide and imploring. Hadley tried to turn, tried to see who held her captive, but she could not, his grip was too tight. His fangs sunk into her neck. The pain was acute, specific, focused entirely in that one singular spot. She could see Sookie before her, leaping toward them, palms out and prepared to fire. "Let her go!" she cried, pressing herself to Hadley.
The vampire let Hadley drop, his fangs releasing abruptly, the sticky, wet feeling of blood sliding down her neck and into her shirt.
"Why?" the vampire growled.
"She is family," Sookie replied frantically, gathering Hadley up. "Are you okay?"
Hadley nodded, stumbling slightly. In all her years of fighting vampires, she'd never once been bitten by one. It shocked her, how quickly she was incapacitated, how abruptly she'd lost all of the fight within her. She felt it restoring now, the glowing warmth turning into a desire for retaliation, for fury. She spun on her heels, facing the vampire who had wronged her, prepared to continue the fight.
Until she saw him. Because once she saw him, she knew it was a fight she would lose.
"The Northman?" she breathed, staring up in awe at the famed, Viking vampire towering above her. The vampire they had hunted for centuries. The vampire that had killed hundreds if not thousands of their kind. The vampire they told stories of, who lived on in folklore, his fighting prowess, his renown abilities, the danger he posed to all fairies, both young and old. The Northman stared back at her, his face cold and hard, Hadley's blood on his lips and teeth. He looked every part the predator, every part the warrior, every part the killer.
"Hadley, wait–" Sookie began, but Hadley was already out the door and running down the stairs. She didn't dare glance over her shoulder, didn't dare check for a pursuit. All she knew was that she had to get back to the portal, get back to Niall.
This changed everything.
x
thank you for your lovely comments. earlier in this story i noted the outline to be 20 chapters. the outline is 24 now. someone take my keyboard away from me. stay healthy x