I own nothing to do with True Blood.

I'm so sorry for the confusion on last chapter. I hope to clear some of that up lol, I didn't mean for everything to sound so confusing. Hopefully this chapter will clear up a few answers regarding Sookie being Fae, etc.

I want to thank you all so much for your lovely reviews, I get tickled whenever I read them. They excite me and I am truly humbled! I never thought anyone would ever be interested in reading my writing, so it's... wow.

I really hope you will enjoy this chapter.

I probably won't be updating until early next year (hectic now that its Christmas) so, I want to say:
Merry Christmas, and I hope you all have a wonderful New Years.
May lots of love, laughter, and memorable family and friend times be with you! Keep safe xxx

Chapter Eight

I was frantically worried about not having a decent discussion over the whole ordeal with vampire Eric, so I found myself adament on not letting him leave.

Sure, the nasty lady vampire could leave all she liked and wouldn't have a say in the matter. And, with a quick nasty look in my direction and a gesture of parting for Eric Northman, she did. I wanted answers, and I would be damned if I not get what I wanted.

He made to leave in one quick movement. I stopped him by grabbing him by the arm, then instantly regretted touching him so forcefully like that. He turned to look down at me, and with that tall looming height and those chilling blue eyes, I felt shy all of a sudden.

"Uh, we need to have a big chat," I spoke up at him urgently, but then instantly regretted it.

I winced at the pain in my throat from having his vampire friend clutch at it violently, and my voice had come out low and raspy.

"Of course, little human." His tone sounded awfully mocking, like he'd rather be anywhere else than having conversations with me. "Lead the way."

But stubbornly, I thought, Too bad. I had just suffered a choking from this lady vampire friend of his, and I wasn't going to let him leave easily without at least some form of explanation into what they were talking about tonight.

Especially, the fact that they had been talking right there about me, as if I was nowhere in sight. As if I wasn't smart enough, or intelligent enough, to use my ears. And that was just downright rude and nasty of him!

He swung an arm forward briskly, gesturing for me to take a seat on one of Gran's cane chairs.

So I did; I took the one I often frequented, while she'd sit there absentmindedly doing her crossword puzzles... After a moment of obvious uncertainty, he sat right next to me in Gran's chair, too, resting those long elbows against his knees. He peered at me meaningfully through his heavy lidded, slate blue eyes. He was clearly waiting for me to start.

"I... I don't know what just happened," I began, wincing again in discomfort. My throat felt so darn sore and tight, it was almost unbearable. "But... you... you've gotta tell me right now!"

I tried to act all forceful and deadly within the threat, only my scratchy voice made it sound so weak and feeble.

"I apologize deeply for Pamela's behaviour," he said quickly. But, he sounded as if he was trying not to come across as wickedly amused by the whole ordeal.

I think I finally understood now. While, I was aware now that Pamela had been the very same woman who had submitted in a missing vampire's report in the newspaper, I still didn't quite know what she was to him, other than co-owning the bar in Shreveport they invested in.

"She can be extremely hostile with matters leading into my absence away from her for so long. But she is completely loyal, and that loyalty will be extended to you," he said truthfully, though yet again, I couldn't comprehend what he was saying. "In fact, she couldn't have come at a more beneficial time. She will provide great coverage in ensuing your safety."

"My... my safety?" I coughed out, then clutched at my throat. God damn it, it hurt like nothing ever before!

Then, Gran's chair he was seated in moved in front of me suddenly, so that he was facing me head-on. I swallowed dryly, and it stung. It was a little startling. Really, I was going to have to get used to all of that quick vampire, speedy movement business sooner or later.

"I think I have a cure for your problem," he said quietly, reaching to tug my hand from my throat tentatively. "For both problems."

"You do?" I mimed out, coughing.

His fangs made another heady appearance, while his top lip curled over, and it was then I realized what he was hinting at. "In order to make it easier to protect you at all times, and ensure your safety, we will need to exchange blood, little human."

- - 0 -

"Ugh, I can't do this! It's just nasty. I just-"

He levelled his piercing stare onto me, silencing me. "-Tiny, do you want yourself and your family to be protected, or not?"

Did I? Well, of course I wanted Gran and Jason protected from whatever it was that was coming for me, but was taking blood from him really all that necessary? Was this blood-bond affair really the right way to go about it? After a moment, I realized he was right. Maybe it was. Sort of.

"I... I guess so," I shrugged, uncertainly.

"Then, drink," he ordered at once, holding that bloody, dripping wrist level to my mouth.

I opened my mouth, trying to act all mature and business-like about it. Hey, it's no biggie, Sookie, I tried to convince myself. It's only a few swallow's. It can't be that nasty tasting. Only a second later, I gagged loudly and cringed away from his wound. It was just too much. Hell, it was gross and all kinds of nasty. I just couldn't do it.

He gave out an impatient sigh and I knew I had disappointed him.

"Tiny human," he said, tilting his head to look over at me. His voice was surprisingly gentle, considering how frustrated he looked. "It'll be easier to protect you this way. This way, I will be able to sense your fear or any danger that comes to harm you. And, besides, your great grandfather would have expected you to do this."

"My great grandfather?" I repeated, short of a gasp. "But, Gran said he died years back of lung cancer? I haven't even met him, myself."

"No, your great grandfather, Naill, is very much alive, I can assure you," he said very slowly, trying to keep his cool. "Now, back to the matter at hand, Tiny Stackhouse. Do this quickly..." He pushed his wet wrist against my mouth again. Then, he added with a deeply menacing voice, "Drink before I lose my patience and shove my blood into you by force."

I tried to stick my tongue out so I could close my mouth over his dripping wound, only it didn't work easily.

My mouth felt completely dry and my tongue kept sticking to the bed of my throat.

Finally, I let a little slip into my mouth and it was a mightysome struggle to swallow it all down. He was clenching and unclenching his large hand repetitively into a tightly balled fist to make the blood flow into my mouth more smoothly.

It was absolutely revolting.

The blood tasted salty and clumpy. I couldn't help the scrunching up of my face, while I swallowed and swallowed. Soon, I felt his other hand behind the back of my head, guiding me forward and compressing my mouth deeper into the wound, while I sucked and swallowed.

Hell, I'm pretty sure I even heard him give out a few little deep noises while I sucked and probed my tongue into his bloody wound.

Each noise was different; sometimes little grunts that sounded full of pain, while others sounding more of an aroused, pleased nature. All those noises he was making didn't sit very well for me, and to show it, I took one last small swallow of his blood before slapping his hand away and wiping at my mouth with my hands frantically.

I made a rude noise of disgust, panting.

But, funny enough, the sore scratchiness of my throat from this Pamela's excruciatingly tight hold, was gone. I cleared my throat several times, marvelling in the fact. I hadn't known vampire blood could create such a fast healing effect, but somehow, it had worked.

Beside me, he was running his tongue all over his top lip and those creepy fangs were out.

I didn't know why that was exactly, but they tended to come out often when he was around me, I was starting to realize that. I was starting to think they were a permanent part of his appearance, something that I'd have to learn quickly to accept.

"You were surprisingly superb for your first time," he said, in a thickly pleased voice. "Now, if you will kindly return the favor."

I could feel those strong, rough fingers lifting the hair away from the side of my neck and I felt his cool breaths, long and urgent, just below my earlobe.

"Favor?" I whispered, my voice husky with confusion. As soon as I'd heard my own voice falling from my lips, I grimaced in mortification. I sounded oddly pleased by him making his appreciation known.

His mouth moved closer to my ear. "Yes, favor," he panted himself, gruffly.

I wasn't going to lie, his voice did crazy things to my skin. At first, I felt I was on fire. Then, I felt all shivery and cold by how close he kept his mouth near me.

His large, long arms came around me, pulling me into his chest.

I was stunned, finding it difficult to speak or move, with his actions. His mouth pressed against my neck, and I exhaled as slowly as possible with all my might. I didn't want to give out any funny sounds to give him anymore incentive to keep going at it. Last thing I needed was for Gran to hear all these noises, either.

I felt his teeth move against my neck, pinching and scraping.

Funny, I'd always assumed a vampire's bite would be painful as hell, but I hardly felt a sting. Until, I realized the reason why that was. His fangs hadn't gone in yet, and he was delaying the moment for as long as possible, working his way up to it. I wished he'd just do it quickly, and get it over with.

"Don't lose control," I warned quickly, feeling a little scared, yet thrilled at the same time. "And don't take too much out of me!" The adrenaline was racing, and I felt impossibly excited.

"Never," he said, with quiet conviction. And then, he was in.

The pain I was expecting finally hit me, and my hands found their way up to his neck while I battled to hold in a yelp.

My hands started clinging desperately at the fabric of his shirt, just for something to hold onto, while the pain continued.

I bit the inside of my mouth, squeezing my eyes tightly shut as a searing, violent pressure came from my skin. It felt, oddly enough, as if his mouth was a vaccuum cleaner, leaving off pull-and-tug sensations onto my skin, as he drained me.

His little disconcerting grunting noises started again, and these were definitely ones full of blissful pleasure.

I felt myself blush, as I wondered if taking blood from a human was the same pleasure felt as having intercourse?

I didn't know where such an impure thought came from, but it surprised me. Of all the things to think about, while this Eric Northman was taking my blood after having offered me his, as a solution to making "it easier" to protect me... I was sitting there outside on the porch in one of Gran's cane chairs, while he sucked at me... thinking about sex and vampires and pleasure?

He gave out one final throaty moan against my skin, and then he was backing away from me, his mouth and fangs all stained with my red, wet and shiny blood. It should have frightened the heck out of me, but it hadn't.

"Delicious," he said breathlessly, like I should have taken it as the highest form of flattery a vampire could ever make. "Unsurprisingly mouthwatering. There is definitely Faerie in you."

Only, it unnerved me and offended me deeply. I didn't know why, but I felt all embarrassed and defensive all of a sudden. Maybe because having anyone near my neck was a very intimate, private thing.

I'd never dreamed of letting any boy near my neck, presenting me the gift of a hickey, let alone a full-grown vampire biting and sucking for blood.

My neck felt a little achy and tender, so I stretched it out a bit, turning it this way and that way. "Now I feel a little sore," I admitted, shyly. "Is that normal after being bitten?"

I brought my eyes over to look at him. Mistake number one.

He was leaning back in Gran's chair, looking so absurdly pleased with himself, while picking at the wet streaks of blood on his face with his fingers.

I thought he was doing it very slow and purposefully to annoy me; his shining eyes never leaving my own as he popped a bloodstained finger into his mouth to suck at it ostentatiously loud, like a dinner guest complimenting his server on the new taste of the food they were testing, with such a gesture.

I shuddered.

"I honestly don't know if that is normal or not. The last human I fed on, she was of the fangbanger persuasion, many years ago... so I did not care to ask her. However, if I rightly remember... the human did squeal a lot. It had been quite some time since I'd fed, therefore I may have been extra rough on her. But she revealed to me that she did, in fact, have a fetish for S & M beforehand."

"S & M?" I hadn't heard of the term before.

I mean, I was fifteen years old and Gran never told me anything about all of that kind of impure stuff. I just assumed it was something exclusive to vampire-fangbanger activity.

"She had a penchant for being whipped, chained, bitten and fucked, all at the same time," he explained, with a hint of deep amusement in his wickedly baritone voice.

As the realization slowly settled in, I hunched over, feeling my cheeks redden. "Oh, Holy Mother of Mary," I laughed awkwardly, desiring nothing more than to hide my face from his sight. "Why am I so uneducated when it comes to all of this?"

"Well," he breathed coolly, then casually bit the tip of his middle finger with those fangs. My eyes widened as he shifted closer to me in his chair, beckoning me to scoot over. "I can always show you, if you're that interested," he suggested indecently, smiling grossly. Maybe he saw the strong disgust painted unconcealed to him on my face, because within a heartbeat, his expression turned deadly serious once again. "Rather instead, here, allow me. My blood is very strong, therefore you will heal within seconds."

"Oh," I whispered, stunned. I picked all of my hair into my hands, and moved it back out of the way. "Your blood heals?"

"Indeed it does," he said, in a bored manner. "Does it impress you?"

"I... I guess. A little."

I winced, as he patted his finger into the wound on my neck, slouching forward a little.

It stung with every light touch of contact he placed onto it, and I hissed between my teeth. He began rubbing the spot in a circular motion, and then, just as suddenly, all the pain felt gone. I gave out a long sigh in relief.

"Thank you," I sighed honestly. "It feels mighty better now." And it was true; I no longer felt there was anything different about my neck, and my throat no longer hurt from the tight compression of Pamela's grasp.

He looked as if he was preparing himself to leave, and I was right. He stood very quickly, and I did the same hastily, almost expecting it.

But then, he spoke again. "Before I leave, there is something important I must inform you of." I thought his bending down was for nothing more than to kiss me goodnight on the cheek courteously but, naturally, I was wrong. I felt a twinge of deep disappointment, as his mouth closed over my ear again. "William Compton cannot be trusted."

I moved back a bit to look up at him searchingly. "What makes you say that, now?"

"Because Compton returned to Bon Temps on regulation by the King he serves for," he explained, readily. Not that it made much sense to me one bit. "I have knowledge that you and your Grandmother have something that very greatly intrigues the King," he said, confidently. "And to be completely honest here, it intrigues me also. William Compton is here to obey his King's orders and that is..." He fell dead silent for a moment, as if searching for the right words to enlighten me the easiest with, "He seeks for what you are."

"And what am I?" I asked, my voice thick and quivery. "I... I heard you say-"

It took him a moment to speak, like he was unsure whether to tell me or not. It annoyed the hell out of me. But, then his wide blue eyes came closer and closer, until his mouth was an inch away from my face. "You are Faerie."

"Faerie?" I repeated, in an equally low voice. My voice was tinged with something I hadn't heard from my mouth before: Hysterical laughter, as well as disbelief. And, laugh hysterically I did. I doubled over, finding it increasingly difficult to compose myself. "Faerie? Now what a load of crock!" I laughed, like it was all some good joke being played on me.

"I'm relieved that you can find the humorous side of it now," he said, grudgingly. "But in a few weeks time from now, there will be nothing humorous about it in the least. Not once they come for you, and your cherished few..." That stopped the laughter short.

I looked up at him steadily. "Someone's coming for me, as well as Gran and Jason?"

"Yes," he said, vehemently. "You have no concept of just how dangerous this whole ordeal is. You are the only one left of your kind and your blood offers us what most vampires can only dream of. Even to a vampire like myself," he added, with a disturbingly regretful expression.

"Which is?" I prodded, urgently.

"Day-walking."

The term was even more of a foreign concept to me. I stared blankly, in which he returned with a deep sigh.

"The subject is still debatable as purely myth, but it is rumoured a notable amount of your Faerie blood can affect us in staggering ways. Your blood may very well be the resolution the King needs in order to make his wet dream a reality, thence many Vampires and Weres, whether be in his debt or just simply wanting to prove their loyalty, are coming to collect what he needs to fulfil his desire." I stared at him silently, working hard to absorb his words. I could feel the skepticism growing on my face. "He is under some sick misapprehension that if he can feed on you, it may very well be possible for him to walk into the daylight unfeebled."

"Weres?" I was burning up with unrestrained curiosity over all the stuff he was telling me. I wasn't gonna hide it. "Are Weres another term for, like... Werewolves?" I guessed unsteadily.

"Yes," he growled without a single beat's worth of hesitation. "And you cannot begin to comprehend just how challenging a task it will be to keep you safe." He eyed me severely, like the whole ordeal was all my fault. "You cannot even begin to imagine just how much of a rapport the King of Louisiana has... just how much of an influence he is, to all Supes alike. Weres, Vampires, all who are willing to guarantee allegiance to him will be participating in this travesty."

"So, does it work?" I threw at him, folding my arms around my chest. "Will my blood really help?"

He shrugged, and I could tell he was uncomfortable on the subject. "It has never been tested," he admitted, softly. "And, though I consumed a generous amount of your blood, I am not going to start testing that theory." He looked offended at the mere idea.

"Good," I whispered, in relief.

Least I needed was the vampire who was supposedly here to "protect" me, turning on me for the one thing all vampires wanted made a reality. Now, I was starting to feel suspicious. How could I know for certain whether or not this Eric Northman could be trusted, more so than Bill Compton? Of course, if my feelings were anything to go by, I felt somewhat instinctively trustworthy of this Eric. He no more gave me creepy feelings, than Mr. Compton did.

"Now why should I take your word over his?" I asked tartly, suspicion pulsating through every inch of my veins, as I gave him a long, hard look. "He has been nothing but sweet to my Gran- more so than you've ever been sweet to me! When Jason, Tara and I came across you that night, you showed me what a vampire really could be. Scary, frightening... vicious. I really thought you were going to kill us all!"

He laughed, but it held a dark edge to it. "You tiny human's disrupted me from a very pleasant dream." He went even further to wiggle his eyebrows at me. Gross.

"And then I come across you again outside Gran's yard, and you look all wretched, like a poor little darling... all wet and shivering." I smiled at the memory. Looking back to that night, it kind of made me laugh now, just with the realization how foolish it had all been. How naive I had been. "Hell, I even gave you one of Gran's afghans because I felt so sorry for you! And really, you were here all along to protect me?"

It just didn't make sense.

"Yes." He looked like he was trying to hide a smile. "It was part of the plan, though it didn't serve me as well as I'd anticipated."

I was flabbergasted. "Your plan was to run around outside like a crazy-ass fool and make me feel mightily sorry for you?"

"No, tiny human," he corrected, easily. "My plan was to elicit enough sympathy from you, that it would motivate you to invite me into your home. Only, Compton bet me to it."

"Oh, right," I laughed, playing right along. "So, you were just taking advantage of my old, sweet motherly nature?"

He was grinning broadly now over my teasing. It was a nice smile, without the fangs, which he must have retracted somehow. It made him seem more benign and sweet. Attractive, even. I instantly chided myself over the train of thought that had taken over because of his big smile.

Whoa there, Sookie, I warned myself, like a mother would have. He is nothing more than a nasty, sneaky vampire. It isn't right of you to think him attractive, after everything that's happened these past few days. Plus, wasn't it just downright silly to see a vampire as cute? There was nothing at all remotely attractive about those fangs!

I had to grasp firm hold onto myself. I was not here to be foolish and to play around. "But... that doesn't make any sense." I couldn't even swallow everything he had just confessed to me. It was too bizarre, too bat-shit crazy. "I thought all vampires were under the strict ruling of one King?"

"That is true," he agreed simply, immediately adopting that solemn air once again, all playfulness long behind after I had deliberately sobered up.

I hesitated, stunned. "But... wouldn't that mean you're under order from the King, too?"

"I have not fratinized with any royalty in over fifteen years, Tiny," he vowed, with an intensity that was earth-rendering. I couldn't do anything else but believe him. "I would rather be staked a million times over, than to be in the same line of ruling that is William Compton." He paused just a fraction to bow his head, squinting down at his bare, large feet. "Consequently, I pledge my allegiance to you, little Stackhouse. To protect you from Compton's malicious schemes."

"But what if I'm not what everyone assumes I am?" I hissed up at him eagerly. My voice was nothing more than a whisper. It didn't make any sense at all, but I was dying to know. I had to know, for my own sanity. "Why do I feel like a normal girl, if I'm meant to be a...a...?" I trailed off, awkwardly.

Saying that word was just ridiculous to me. Surely, it had to be wrong. I felt like the average, fifteen-year-old girl. I was no different from any other teenager. Right?

"You have not fully developed to your potential, as yet," he answered, sounding so bored, like the whole thing to him was particularly dull.

He made a start towards the front porch steps. Like he was so eager to get away, even though it hardly was nearing sunrise and I didn't like the idea of him leaving yet. I still felt I was about to burst with questions.

"With some time and patience, your skills will be brought to fulfilment," he finished hastily, then turned around to meet my gaze. He stared at me for a long, silent moment and I noticed his forehead crumpled in concern. "As for now, go inside and take the night to think everything I've told you over. I'm highly doubting anyone would even dare to think of causing you any distress, while you're sleeping."

I raised myself towards the front door, ready to follow his instructions obligingly. Everything he had told me tonight, definitely had given me a lot of food for thought. A lot more, than I could manage to cram into my brain and soak up.

Just as I reached Gran's door and had lifted a hand to turn the doorknob, a startling question itched at me.

I turned around to find he was still standing exactly where he had been before, at the porch steps, motionless like stone. Clearly, he was waiting patiently for me to entire inside Gran's house, just to reassure himself that I was safe and sound. How touching.

I looked down at him with narrowed eyes. "Oh, because we've exchanged blood and, apparently we're bonded, if... just say, something terrible does happen to me, you'll feel it, right?"

He simply nodded solemnly. I breathed out a sigh of relief.

"And, how fast is it possible for you to get to me if anything does happen?"

A faint, fangless smile came across his face. "As fast as you can possibly say 'Help'."

Just to test that theory, I spat it out, eyeing him playfully. "Help." I wanted to see what he would do. All he did, was grin vastly. I had him amused.

"Tiny Stackhouse, probably not that fast," he said pointedly, smiling. "But... fast enough."

I beamed down at him, all sorts of alleviated. "Well, that's good enough for me."

But that sense of calm well-being hadn't lasted long. Now, I had to face Gran's wrath of tears and worry over tonight's events.