A/N: I wasn't going to post this, because I have been a very bad girl who hasn't done much writing this week, but NHlady198 guilt tripped me into it. (OK, so maybe really her review made me so verklempt that I couldn't help myself, but still. :P) And I have chapter 12 half written, so I am still ahead of the game on this one, at least. I will be working on Y&B in the next couple of days as well (I'm uploading that story as it's written and betaed, so I have none of those ones back and ready). Thanks again for all of the reviews; I did try to reply, but ff . net was being a turd and just sending me to an empty page. Whee! They really do mean the world to me and I appreciate every single one. 3 So. New chapter for AM on Sunday and Y&B undetermined but soon.

Chapter 9

Turn The Page

I followed the vampire out of my room and into the elevator, nodding at Stan on the way past the security desk. My new handler pushed the button for the parking garage. I guessed that he was definitely not a pickup truck kind of guy. Something with power and speed and class... Sports car? Muscle car? Maybe a luxury sedan, like a Cadillac or a Lincoln? He could certainly use the leg room. No, I was thinking sports car, despite his height. Something flashy and fast, with a lot of horsepower. Black, or maybe red.

We got out of the elevator and he led me to a Crown Vic. What a disappointment! Pickup trucks and Crown Victorias. It's like these agency guys only came in two flavours. I threw my bag in the back seat and climbed in the front.

I don't know why I suddenly trusted him, but I found that I did. Not completely; I wasn't an idiot. But I was certain he wasn't taking me out to dispose of me. I had seen the belief in his eyes when he had listened to Tray, and the distrust for Beaumont when he listened to her. And I wanted to be as far from her as I could get.

It was late, nearly 4 AM, and there was very little traffic on the road. Neither of us spoke. After a few minutes, he cracked all of the windows. It was neither particularly hot nor cold, and I found it odd that vampires were so sensitive to temperature. But the breeze didn't bother me, so whatever.

"So, what do I call you, anyway? Northman? Mr. Northman? Special Agent Northman? Master?"

That last one was possibly dripping with sarcasm.

He looked over at me and smirked. "Eric is fine." He fidgeted around in his seat a little, like he couldn't get comfortable. I really wouldn't have expected vampires to be such a sensitive bunch. Or maybe it was just him, since I had never seen Beaumont as much as twitch in the ten years I'd known her.

I leaned my head against the cool window and just watched the lights pass by. I didn't have to work hard to hold up my shields, but it was still a relief to be able to relax them completely. Eric's mind, like Dr Beaumont's, was completely silent. I caught the occasional snippet of thought from the few cars we passed on the highway (and if there was a car in front of us, we passed it. This guy drove like a bat out of hell. Did vampires turn into bats? Hell, maybe this guy was where that saying came from), but it was no more distracting than the purr of the engine or the hum of the tires on the road. I felt quite numb. I wished I could just escape into the oblivion of sleep.

I had killed a man today. Again. I had killed another man today. I had spent more than half of my life being trained how to kill in hundreds of different ways, but it didn't make the reality any easier.

I thought about the meeting. There had been little new information there for me; I knew exactly how Noam and Calvin and Andy felt about me. It wasn't like they could hide it. Dr Beaumont had been a surprise, though. She had always been ice cold. The consummate professional. No emotion. Ever. And had she always hated me that much?

And then there was the bombshell. The bit of new information that had rattled me most of all. And, coincidentally, I was sitting right next to someone who was an expert on the matter. I rarely got answers, but it never hurt to ask. Well, that was bullshit; I had been hurt plenty of times for asking questions. But it rarely stopped me from asking them, and sometimes it paid off.

"What are the effects of vampire blood?"

He glanced over at me. "It can heal wounds and some ailments. It increases strength and speed and heightens senses. It increases libido. If a person takes the blood directly from a vampire, it causes a blood tie. The vampire can sense the emotions of the human and be able to locate them if they are nearby. It makes the vampire more desirable to them. The more blood the vampire gives the human, the stronger the tie becomes. If the human and vampire exchange blood three times, it will form a blood bond. This is permanent, and allows the human to also feel the emotions of the vampire, and sense when they are near. It also enables the vampire to have control over the human, and he will be able to locate and feel them over large distances. If a vampire drains the human and replaces the blood with his own, the person will die and will rise Vampire in three nights. The new vampire must do as his maker commands.

"Do the effects of the blood wear off?"

"Yes. Depending on the amount of blood in a human's system, the effects wear off completely in weeks or months. When it is gone, the tie is broken."

He was being amazingly upfront and communicative. "So, if I stopped taking it, eventually I would be only as strong and fast as any other human my size?"

"Honestly, we do not know what would happen. Obviously there have been no scientific studies on the long-term effects of vampire blood given as often and in such quantities to humans over such an extended period of time, especially throughout puberty. From the testing we've done, we know that it has made fundamental permanent changes throughout your body. All systems were affected and made stronger. It is possible, although not likely, that you would remain as strong as you are now. It is more possible that you would be stronger and faster than the average human, but much less so than you are now.

It is likely that you would weaken as the blood waned in your system and eventually die, your own blood not able to sustain the body the vampire blood helped to grow."

The rage was back, bubbling just under the impassive surface. I was trapped, even more than I had known. Even worse, I was dependent. And a human medical experiment. The US government had pulled a Mengele on me.

But, after a moment, the rage just drained away. I was so tired. My situation sucked, but I was in the same position before I knew what it was, and now at least I had some answers. More than that, I was going to be a bird in a gilded case. It wasn't ideal, but it beat the hell out of being a bird in a shoebox with pencil holes poked in the top.

He took the next exit, and we pulled into the parking lot of a 24 hour WalMart.

"So I don't have a blood tie with a vampire?"

"No, the blood is removed from the vampire several days before consumption, so no blood tie is formed. Come. We must buy a few things for your human needs. It will be dawn soon."

I scanned the parking lot and got out. I followed him into the store. My my my. This vampire had what was almost certainly the world's greatest ass. He wore jeans that just hugged his buns, and a blue V necked t-shirt. Very casual for the NSA, but the authority radiated off him. You would never mistake him for a flunky.

Despite my appreciation for a fine behind, I wondered about increased libido as a side effect of vampire blood. I had not had any sexual experiences where I was a willing participant, and I hadn't really wanted any. I thought about sex a lot, but only because I "overheard" when everyone else did. And oversaw. It did absolutely nothing for me. As a matter of fact, I was basically anti-sex at this point. And that was even before factoring in my aversion to touch. I enjoyed looking at a beautiful man (and Eric Northman was as gorgeous as they came), but maybe I just didn't have any libido to increase. Anything multiplied by zero is zero, right?

I did a quick scan of everyone in the store as we went in. We got the necessities - food (cereal, milk, bread, eggs, bacon, peanut butter, bananas, butter, cake), toiletries, and. toilet paper - and were back in the car and on the highway in fifteen minutes. Less than ten minutes later, we were pulling into the driveway in front of a huge brick colonial. He opened the garage and pulled in next to a… red corvette. Ha! Score.

"What is funny?"

I had barely smirked. "I had you pegged as a sports car guy."

"This car belongs to the Agency. The Corvette is mine."

I grabbed my bag out of the back while he got the groceries from the trunk. He led me through the door and into the kitchen, and put everything away. His kitchen was stocked with dishes, utensils, and even cookware. I had never cooked a meal, of course, but I was looking forward to trying. I had certainly helped myself to lots of people's recipes and cooking how-tos.

He showed me around - the living room, the library, the bedroom and attached bath that would be mine. It was a beautiful home, so much larger and more opulent than any I could ever remember being in. I set my bag down on the bed.

"Dawn is very soon, so I will need to retire to my sleeping chamber. Come, and I will show you a few things first." He showed me how to use the entertainment centre in the living room. He showed me the pool and jacuzzi in the back yard, and where the towels were located.

He gave me the alarm code for the front door.

Normally a master of control, my shock was all over my face. "I'm free to go?"

"Of course. You need to be able to integrate into society. Soon, I will teach you how to drive, and you will be able to come and go as you please during the day. Can't you be trusted to behave yourself?"

"Of course. You aren't worried I'll run?"

"No." He gave a wry grin. "You have been implanted with a GPS microchip. There is no place you could run where the NSA couldn't find you."

Why was I not surprised? I was pissed, of course, but honestly? I had never had as much freedom as I seemed to have right then. I could choose what to eat and when. I could take a walk around the block. I could go for a swim, read a new book, watch tv… I tried to hold on to the thread of suspicion while pushing the swelling feeling of gratitude down. I could not afford to soften.

I kept my composure. Polite. Professional. Completely sincere. "Thank you, Eric."

"Do you have any questions before I go to my day rest?"

I had a bunch, but most would keep. Only one was truly pressing. "Will anything happen to Tray?"

"Dr Beaumont will write him up for insubordination, I'm sure. I will write a commendation. I outrank her. Your training at the facility is complete, and he will be reassigned, but I assure you that he will remain unharmed and employed.

"I left a piece of paper and pen on the island in the kitchen. Write down anything that you would like for me to get, including a full supply of groceries. I will look after it when I rise."

I hated that I had to ask, but dying would kind of suck. "The vampire blood?"

"Will be arriving with my day man tomorrow. Try to get some rest. I will see you at sunset."

He disappeared through a door off the hall. I was absolutely exhausted. It didn't seem possible that the delicious room service breakfast in the hotel room with Quinn was only 21 hours ago. That reminded me that I was hungry, but I was too tired to chew.

I went to my new room, undressed, and climbed into bed. I scanned the building, and there was nobody else but the void directly below me. I stretched my sense out, and the neighbours were far enough away that their thoughts were barely a mutter unless I focused.

The bed was so comfortable. The quilt was a rich warm brown, and the sheets were taupe and buttery soft. I snuggled down into the pillow, and the familiar scent of the laundry detergent and fabric softener my Mama used to use filled my senses. After a decade of nothing but white scratchy scentless linens from an industrial laundry, this sudden touch of home brought me to tears for the second time that night.

I cried like I hadn't in longer than I could recall. I had mostly given up on crying long before my whole life changed when I was eight. If I'd cried every time there was something to cry about, I never would have stopped. But that night I cried for my lost family. I cried for Tray. I cried for Quinn, and for the guilt I had over his death, and for the anger I felt at my guilt. I cried in loneliness. I cried in rage and sorrow and grief and self-pity. I cried in thankfulness and hope. And when that scared the shit out of me, I cried some more. And eventually, finally, I cried myself to sleep.