I own nothing to do with True Blood, which is blatantly obvious haha.

I want to thank you all so much, your response to this story astounds me, as I'm not a particularly confident FF writer in any sense. I'm truly humbled! And, hopefully, you will enjoy this chapter! Love you guys, you're all so wonderful! x

Chapter Fifteen

The workers were finished outside just after three o'clock. I was relieved, by the time they packed up and left. Everything almost turned into a nice, peaceful quiet again.

But I was coming to truly hate these quiet moments by myself, I was learning. These moments stuck by myself, all by my lonesome, truly gave me the time to dwell. On Gran. On the restless notion that Eric was underneath the floorboards... somewhere. Hell, he was probably listening in intently to every sound or movement I made, with his extra keen vampire hearing ability. Talk about invasion of privacy!

So, with that unsettling knowledge placed permanently in the forefront of my mind, I was feeling oddly restricted. I didn't want to do something, out of fear he'd hear me. I was reduced to just sitting in what was becoming my regular safe haven- Gran's faded sofa- huddled up in bundles and bundles of blankets.

By the time the early hours of the evening slipped in, I was tightly strung like a fiddle for the moment Eric made his entrance from his slumber underground.

For nearly over two hours, it never came.

The jingling of what sounded like a set of car keys coming from the porch broke me out of my stressful mood, and at first, I had so naïvely assumed it was Jason making his return back home. That alone, threw me into a new sense of panic.

What was I going to tell him about Gran? What was I supposed to say? Do I just put on a straight-face, lie to him, and tell him she's just popped out somewhere?

"Sookie." Eric's voice pretty much had me both relieved, and angry, the second I heard it erupt from behind the front fly screen door. I scrambled off the sofa, and ran out to the hallway. The jingling of keys didn't stop, even then. He held the keys up to me, and the smile planted on his face, was one I couldn't seem to get. "How about a ride?"

So, he was growing on me... more and more everyday. The idea of leaving Gran's house, just for even an hour, was more appealing than it ought to have been.

Especially when where Eric was intending to take me, was like the lowest threshold of human-vampire behaviour.

00

I couldn't believe my eyes.

I felt like I was dreaming, almost. Soon as we entered an eccentric, little bar named Fangtasia, it almost felt as if I had entered into a new, sordid world I hadn't ever experienced before. It certainly opened my eyes to certain relations vampires and humans had when they existed together.

But not in a very good way.

It was like a sleazy Vegas club, almost. Only there were vampires surrounding the entire place. Add to that, a whole bucket load of pleasured groans, and moans, and... blood. Lot's and lot's of blood and fang.

Eric left me soon as we entered, leaving me smack-bang in the middle of some fangbanging action. I never believed anything like this could ever exist; It was almost beyond reality.

Half the room was a dance floor, and people were going at it like madmen, twirling and moshing and thrusting to the heavy metal music blaring around the room from a set of loud-speakers. The room was bathed in a fluorescent, pulsing red-glow, giving off an eery effect. Horror movie material, right here.

There was a stage, draped in a sort of bellowing heavy fabric. The color, you guessed it; Blood red. Positioned directly in the center of the stage, was an unoccupied, carved throne. Instantly, I had a wicked thought about sitting in it, but then decided now wasn't the time to act foolish.

Instead, I found the closest stool I could find at the bar and sat quietly, crossing a leg over the other, while I inspected my surroundings anxiously.

One blond woman, in a tight red dress, was sitting in a booth and I had no doubts whatsoever in mind, that she was a vampire; She was full-on biting the hell out of another woman, who was groping the lady vampire's butt like her life depended on it.

Everything was so... strange.

Had Gran ever envisioned me setting so much as a foot in such a sexual, impure place like this, she would have been thrown into a premature stroke.

I was aiming for going unnoticed by anyone in the bar, but obviously, it did not quite turn out that way. An old man singled me out, and made a "oohing" noise at me. Terrifying stuff, really. He sauntered over towards me and I so wished I had the ability of being invisible right then.

Why would Eric even think of bringing me to such a place, like his bar, where such a young girl like me would have immediately been pounced on and corrupted?

"Hey, there, pretty little thang."

I glanced behind my shoulder to give the man a stern look of reprove, lifting my brows. Pity for him, he was too darn drunk and horny to get the hint. He leaned against the bar, real close for comfort. Jesus, I swear I could smell alcohol all over him. What made matter's completely worse, was that he was a completely bald man, about in his late fifties. You could just tell he was trying to act younger than he was, what with all the punk get-up he wore. A leather jacket miles too tight, and as tight-it-looked-painful dark jeans, with combat boots. He had no right tryin' to make a move on a young fifteen-year-old girl, like myself. I was well-and-truly physically repulsed and left questioning the morality of older gentleman like himself, when he reached over and stroked my cheek with a set of grimy fingers. God, what an old sleeze-bucket!

"Well, excuse me." With all my might, I knocked his hand away with the back of mine. He hissed like I'd just stung him like a bee, instantly put-off. Guess he wasn't expecting a girl like me to be able to defend herself, and assert her rights. "Don't go touching me any place I don't want anyone touching me. All right, Mister?"

Clearly, he was more daring and drunk than I thought. Next thing I knew, he was getting all up in my personal space. He was breathing very heavily over my forehead. I tried my very hardest not to gag.

"Mister," I warned, through my teeth, "If you don't get away from me and stop bugging me this instance, then... I'll... I'll-?" Oh, crap. I looked behind me, craning my neck around futilely for any sign of Eric.

Damn him. He was nowhere in this bar, at all. I rolled my eyes, and sighed loudly. He always seemed to be missing when I truly needed him best. And this, frankly, was another one of those times.

"You sure you're meant to be in here? 'Cause, I swear... you ain't look a day over sixteen. Hell, I don't mind, though. I like to give anything a crack, at least once. I won't tell, if you won't, baby gal."

Oh my Lord. I turned back in my stool to fix the hardest, stone-cold glare I could manage. I was about to lose it on him, I could feel it. Just when I was considering elbowing him one with a swift elbow to his face, I heard the loud and urgent clacking of heels.

And then, a lady's voice next:

"Get the fuck away from her, limp dick. She's the Master's girl."

I was sure I recognized that voice, all cool, and calm, and impersonal. I swiveled 'round in the stool and boy, it was like all the anxiety I felt inside my body was within the slice of a second replaced by sheer relief.

Pamela. I was one-hundred-percent sure it was her.

It was a little difficult to tell, since the last time I saw her, she was a mighty mess with leaking eye-balls and blood-matted hair. In direct contrast, while she stood there, head tilted to the side, regarding this foul, sleazy man in dead-silent contempt, she looked oddly enough like a Bond Girl.

She was wearing a sleeveless fur coat, with a gorgeous deep crimson slinky number underneath, with leather pants. Her alligator-skinned wedges were about the biggest I had ever seen a woman wear before, and it made her extra tall and looming. Taller than this sleeze-ball, that's for sure.

Seemed the added height intimidated the man, because he gulped loudly and lifted two hands in the air, in mock-surrender.

"Oh, come on now, sugar. I was just playin'." He shot me a startled look. "Lil' girl just knows I was playin'."

"Funny," I muttered, dryly. "Didn't sound like playin' to me."

Pam's red-painted lips curled into a grimace. "Oh, really. Which was it?"

"I was playin', all right?" The man croaked out hoarsely, looking between the pair of us frantically. "I swear, I was just..."

She threw a long red fingernailed hand at his chest. He flinched. "Then fuck off. Get out of here, and don't you ever return."

I could only stare in wonder, when the man instantly bolted out of the bar like a man on fire. It was impressive. The woman sure knew how to knock a man down a few sizes.

I dragged my eyes back over to her, unable to contain my awe for the woman.

"Well?" She huffed out a breath of air, then combed her fingers through her long blond hair. "Are you all right?" I knew she wasn't really asking me that outta concern; Her voice gave her away. I knew she couldn't really care less whether I was hunky-dory or not. Still, I was pleased she'd asked.

"Much better now, thanks to you. That was so... sweet of you."

"Oh, please. Don't go blowing things out of proportion." She gave me a look of distaste; humourously similar to the one she gave me when we first met out on Gran's porch. "I simply did it because Eric would have expected me to."

Well, she sure knew how to cut me down to size, too. "Still. I'm mighty grateful."

She shrugged, and tossed her hair off her right shoulder with a flick of a limp wrist. "Forget it. Tell this to anyone, and you'll be sorry." It was half-hearted warning, a playful one, I could tell. I would appreciate it for what it's worth.

"My lips are sealed and locked." I pressed my lips together, fighting a big smile at her.

"Whatever." At that, she strutted away around the dance floor in her heels. I stared after her, deliriously happy.

She was nice, in her own stoic way. Her choking me on Gran's porch for answers into Eric's whereabouts was now officially water underneath the bridge. Already, I was kind of warming up to her. Now, who would have ever thought?

"Girl?" She called out to me a moment later, through the blaring rock music.

I tried to come off as confident, as I looked back over at her.

"The boss requires you. In his office."

Well, alrighty then. This was going to take some time to get used to. Eric was not that pitiful vamp I saw, and met, all those times outside Gran's house. No, really, he was like the rest of us. He had things to attend to, like co-owning this bar with the Pam lady. I swept my eyes over the crowded room, full with flocks of alternatively dressed people, before sliding off the vinyl stool onto my feet. He was not my protector, always at my beck-and-call. He was like your average, hard-working man, who had bills to attend to, and business to get into the nitty-gritty of. Why that stunned me so much, I had no idea. But it did.

I dodged my way through a whole bunch of people who were dancing together, moving and gyrating their groins together like those saucy back-up dancers you saw in pop-clips, and lingered uncertainly by the first door I could find. I wasn't even certain it was the right place- the door to Eric's office- but I saw that there was no lit signs that said "Bathroom", so I considered it a lucky guess.

I lifted my hand and rapped my knuckles against the door a few times. No answer. I knocked again, and again. And, damn it, still no answer. I heard a shimmer of laughter and, self-consciously, glanced towards the source of it. Two men, with leather vests and gold chains dangling all the way down their concave chests to the buckle on their striped rainbow pants, were looking right at me, cackling in amusement.

I felt my face flush, then shook it off. Screw them, they can go to hell. My gran raised me as a proper, thoughtful young lady with manners. Too bad if my manners aren't "hip" enough for them.

I knocked again on the door, much more forcefully, miffed. At true last, it happened.

"Sookie."

Took him long enough.

I pushed through the door, scowling. It hadn't occurred to me then that something was strange, until it hit me a moment later; Eric was being real formal, he called me by my first name. Not Tiny. Sookie.

When I slammed the door of his office shut, it dawned on me a moment too soon; Eric was not alone. He had company, in this pasty-faced man, with a receding hairline, dressed in a respectable charcoal grey suit.

I did not like the way this man was looking at me, like I was a person of interest. He gave me a real good look-over with chilling blue eyes, and I almost trembled visibly.

I pulled my eyes over to where Eric was and, boy, the uneasy feelings inside grew more and more prominent by the second. Eric was no longer the shirtless, jean-clad large guy I had known him to be, either. No, he was wearing a pressed suit just as fancy as this other man's. Hell, he was even wearing shoes now; Polished, dark brown loafers. His blond hair was slicked back and neat, and, damn I admit it because it was him, he looked dashingly resplendent. There goes the feelings again in my gut; Those crazy, stirrings of havin' your first ever crush.

"This is the Sookie I was speaking to you about," he said a moment later, addressing this unnamed guy, who kept up with his avid staring.

It felt the room was sweltering. Somebody truly needed to crack open a window in Eric's office before I found myself passing out, and fast.

"Is there something... I... I can help you both with?" My voice turned out all small and nervous, and I hated it. At least, I sounded polite, and helpful.

"Oh, I believe I have it all under wraps, Miss. Stackhouse," this undisclosed man said, sounding like he was trying to fight back a chuckle.

He turned slowly to Eric's desk- which would have put Jason's bedroom to shame, considering how cluttered it was with paper documents- then whirled 'round to face me again. He held a small mahogany, polished box in both of his white hands, about the size of a deck of cards. While I couldn't tell for sure what was contained inside it, I knew it wasn't anything all that good.

Then, both stunning and scaring the life outta me, Eric outstretched an arm out into my direction, palm forward and facing me.

"Sookie," he whispered gently, "Your hand."

"What?" I was literally quaking like a leaf.

"Another minor protection detail," he merely said, in a vaguely breathless voice, by way of explanation. Still, I never reached out to accept his hand that was eagerly waiting for me. Something was just not right... about any of this.

So, I may be a young girl, but I sure as hell knew and could tell the difference, when something sketchy was going on. I had a pair of eyes and, what I saw was just... weird. What made me a million times more suspicious, was how Eric's demeanour was. He looked almost shivery in nerves, and that wasn't like Eric at all. At least, not the Eric I had grown to know, who seemed so sure of himself and... ill-humoured around me a quarter of the time, when I showed my true silly, giddy teenage self.

"Your hand, Sookie," he prompted again less than a minute later, his voice taking on a more solemn gruff and impatient edge.

"Why do you want my hand, Eric?" I demanded, beyond fearful. "What the hell is going on here?"

With an oddly strained, tight-lipped smile at this man, he lunged forward and, before I could manage to stop him, he grabbed my hand and held it in his, extra-tight. I could almost feel it going numb from the loss of circulation.

"Excellent," the man remarked casually. "Now that the first step has been taken, I will now go ahead, with the next due course of action."

My eyes felt they were close to popping out of their sockets, and I wriggled nervously, when he opened the box and lowered it to Eric. There, contained inside, was an ancient-looking, gold carving knife. The gold handle had all intricate details and symbols, and it was incredibly daunting, when the sharpest edge of the blade glinted menacingly when the dim, yellowed light hovering above the ceiling of Eric's office reflected on it dazzlingly.

"As the male of this joyful union, you draw the red waterfall," he directed Eric placidly, and I think I got the gist of it then.

Red waterfall? Did that mean... my blood?

Eric was all-too eager to comply. "Of course, Minister." With his thumb and forefinger, Eric gently turned my hand with the utmost care, palm upwards towards the light. He took hold of the carving knife next, and I got such an incredibly bad feeling stirring in my gut then.

I didn't know the meaning of this at all. What the hell was that knife intended for? Slicing me open, and making me spill my "red waterfall" all over the carpet?

I bit down on my tongue with my front and lower teeth when, without any ounce of forewarning, Eric went ahead and did it. He swished the blade over my palm and, god, I had to clamp my lips tightly together to stop the unchristian-like curse that was just dying to erupt. It stung something shocking and then, the "red waterfall" started, almost incessantly, moistening my hand. With a shaky chin, I observed the way Eric held up his hand and did the same, almost with brutal precision, into the center of his own hand. Now we were both bleeding, and I had no friggen idea what came next. He placed the stained carving knife back into its box carefully, like it was almost as delicately made of glass. Then, he turned to look me head-on. I was alarmed by the unrestrained, tearful emotion that overtook his features. His eyes looked all red, and puffy.

This man started chanting loudly to the heavens around Eric's office, a bit like the priest in Church with his sermons:

"I bear witness to the joining of two souls. One Faerie-human hybrid, and one Vampire. May you both live happily thereafter in blissful communion. Let the red waterfall spill from your veins, and connect, being passed from one being to another, for all eternity."

I gulped, confounded, when Eric slipped his hand through mine, and clasped onto mine tightly with his. Everything felt all unerringly wet and slippery then, with his blood, and my blood, and pain shot through my hand something shocking.

"Thank you for your time and consideration, Sir," Eric said, filled with guttural, uncontrolled emotion, when the man plopped the lid back down onto the box.

"It's been a true pleasure, Mr. Northman." The man swooped in to give Eric a brief peck on the lips, and then he turned to do the same with me in procession.

My mind was scattered, and I felt such overwhelming confusion. I couldn't understand anything, at all. It was just all too much for my mind to logically absorb in; Especially how Eric was acting, so humbled, and blood-wet with profound, staggering emotion.

My mind was put to rest a second later, when as the man embraced me, it fell from his lips, so joyfully, so... carelessly:

"As it was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Northman."

A scream got wedged deep inside my throat. I had to be dreaming, I had to be. This was all just a dream, a dream of bad-taste.

"Mrs. Northman. What the heck did you just do to me, Eric?"

I saw red. Hell, I was almost contemplating murder. With a wrathful squeak through my teeth, I focused all my effort and energy into slapping Eric across the cheek. It was without success, because rather instead of my skin connecting with his, a long blinding white shot of light burst out from my fingertips instead, and Eric was flying backwards... back, until he smacked into the wall of his office with a deafening crack. Cracks of plaster puffed out of the top of the ceiling, and not causing Eric harm like I had maliciously intended, he was just a mere astonished and groaning, white plaster-dusted wreck sliding down that wall onto his backside. I could feel the other man staring at me, most likely with the mirrored awe look Eric was giving me.

With a muffled groan, Eric raised a hand to smooth a few locks of hair that had come out-of-place. Then, he turned to this man and the smile he gave him, was a mixture of both unbridled anxiety and excitement.

"Forgive Sookie. She's a fiesty one at heart."

At that, I turned and stormed out of the office, beyond irritated. And, deep down inside, more than a little frightened at what had just become of me.

Why did light connect with my fingers just then? It was super crazy.

I was such a living, breathing freak!

I could hear this lady Pam calling out my name loudly, when I stalked back through the dance floor. I didn't care. I purposefully ignored her, and pushed through the exit of the stuffy bar.

Once outside and into the night-time air, it was then my body caved in. I burst out into a string of curse words and tears, as I started my way through the busy parking lot with desperation in my stride.

I couldn't believe it. Mrs. Northman, my ass! And my hands...

I turned to scrutinize them accusingly, while I kept up my pace. What did I just do with them? I had no idea, but all I knew was... I felt like such a big freak!

What the hell was wrong with me?

I tried not to stress too much, and focused on my task at hand. Hitting the pavement towards home. Hell, I didn't even know which direction home was.

I turned to look around for a sign of some sort and... nothing. Absolutely nothing, goddamn it!

Music hit my ears a moment next. I stiffened at the song. Little Red Corvette, by Prince. How fitting. I heard the sound of tyres rolling against the asphalt next. And then... most infuriating of all, his voice.

"Sookie. Get in."

I wasn't about to give in so easily, that's for sure. I was solely determined to ignore him. It was hard, when the car came into view out of the corner of my eye. Eric was driving dangerously close to my side.

"Sookie."

Mischievously, I flipped him the bird, then quickened my pace. I laughed out-loud bitterly to myself. God, how lady-like of me. Gran would be so proud from... where ever Eric had put her.

"Sookie. Get in." I heard him sigh loudly; half a mixture of an agitated growl, and a sharp exhale of breath. "Do not make me tell you twice." There was an underlying threat underneath that composed voice of his.

I still didn't care. Threaten me all you want, Eric. I'm never setting a foot close to you ever again, you scheming, dirty fanger!

"Sookie. I will drive by you until daylight, if I must. I will even willingly allow myself to get the bleeds, if-"

"-Shut up," I snapped, unable to help myself. "Can't you see that I don't wanna be anywhere near you now? Let alone hear your stupid voice... or see your face... So, get the heck outta Dodge before I do somethin' we'll both majorly regret!"

"Fine." His voice was harsh, and low. "Have it your way, then."

And then, he was speeding off, in his stupid red car. And then, holy crap, he was swerving the car to the side of the road. It gave off an ear-splitting screech when he braked, and somehow, he completely and utterly... disappeared. Within a blink of an eye, the car was left abandoned with the headlights and tail-lights brightly lit. The door on his side was left hanging wide-open. What? Where did he-?

"Lover."

I gulped at the sound of his exasperated voice. Alarmingly, it came right behind me. His words sunk in next, and it left me fuming like nothin' ever before. Lover? Why the heck would he call me that? No, Tiny. Or Sookie. What the fudge?

I glanced down at my hands. My fingers were shaking.

How about another round from Miss. Freak Stackhouse?

Like before, I mustered all my anger into my fingers, hoping to project the same effect as before. I spun around, hands raised level to his chest, eyes tight and face scrunched in concentration and, yet... nothing.

Well, that was a mighty disappointment.

"Are you done?"

Heartless, smug S-O-B.

I shrieked at the top of my lungs, when almost so effortlessly, Eric grasped me by the waist and slung me over his shoulder. Disappointingly, the light never surfaced from my fingers again. I was reduced to yelling and cussing my heart out, pummeling him in the back and his thighs with all the strength I could muster, while he carried me along the strip of road towards his car. Naturally, it served me no good.

"Eric," I groaned breathlessly, disliking the way my head kept bopping up and down while he strolled onwards blissfully. I could feel the vomit rising in my throat. Being held head-down towards the ground was not a pleasant feeling, to say the least. "Eric," I whimpered again, when I got no answer. "I'm gonna be sick, I swear it, if you don't put me down this-"

Too late.

I heaved and spluttered, accidently getting some sloppy mess on the back of his suit.

Oh, shit.

Sure enough, Eric noticed hardly a second later. His entire back stiffened, and he abruptly stopped walking at once. He let loose a disgusted moan.

"I... I'm sorry," I cried weakly.

"You're worse than an infant, Sookie Northman."

At his words, I doubled over his shoulder, heaving some more.

"Sookie Northman. Was that too soon?"

"Hmm. I don't know, Eric," I managed sardonically, "You think?"