A/N: Hey, sorry so it took so long to get this chapter out, but I'm gonna get them out as fast as I can. Thanks for the reviews, I really appreciate them and please continue reviewing!

p.s. in this sequel all the things that happened in Bon Temps during the second season (mary-ann, the maenad, and possession and all that jazz) is not going to happen in here, so it makes things go a lot smoother with the rest of the plot and characters. Anyways, enjoy.

Chapter 15: Mine

Celeste wasn't sure of what she remembered. Now-a-days it was difficult for her to remember anything. Everyday seemed to merge with the next and sometimes, when her memory was really bad, she couldn't remember the last time she ate or had a conversation or even her family. She didn't know when it started (one of the many cons of her horrible memories) but one thing she was certain of, was that whenever she mentioned it to her family they never took her to a doctor. Anyone at the age of twenty-five would be expected to be on their own, but Celeste's family was set on keeping her in the household. She thought they were just clingy; how some reluctant parents get when they don't want their kids to fly the nest, but at times she also thought that they needed her, and sometimes-due to her memory lapses- she needed them.

So when Celeste woke up, in a completely new and different environment, she considered it another one of her episodes. She opened her eyes and saw blackhen she looked around she still saw black. Celeste could feel something soft under her and wrapped around her. Realizing that she was in bed she tried to sit up, however, when she noticed the white wrapping around her arms she stayed down and looked at them.

What happened to me? She thought, lightly pressing the cloth on her right arm. She felt no pain, only a tingling sensation from the wrappings and reluctantly unwrapped the cloth, starting from her wrist up to her shoulder. She looked at her arm and saw nothing, only somewhat tan flesh, but no traces of any damage. She undid her other arm and saw the same thing. She outstretched her arms in front of her and compared one to the other: she could see no flaws or cuts, bruising, burns, or anything that would look damaging to her skin. It was only then did she notice the wrapping around her torso. It went from her hips to her breasts, covering her bra in the white material. It was tight around her and constricting. For the moment Celeste felt her torso, pressing gently against her skin incase their was any sudden pain but there wasn't. She slowly removed the material around her, starting on her side then pulling it around before using her other arm to grab it from behind and bringing around again. When she was finished she saw nothing, she felt nothing.

She looked around the room: the walls were black and there was a counter with a sink and small fridge directly in front of the bed, there was a small desk on the left of the bed, and a door in the far right corner of the room. Celeste carefully got up, wondering where she was and what she was doing there. Seeing a pair of clothes at the end of the bed, she went over to them and looked. She didn't recognize them, she knew they weren't hers. It was a dress, a beige halter dress, about knee length. The design was simple yet elegant, with small folds shaped toward the left, creating a wave-like appearance and a thin matching ribbon tied around the torso. Next to the dress was a pair of black, open-toe, 2 inch, high heels. A series of straps around the nose of the shoe made it open toe, leaving small spaces between each strap and a gold clip in the center.

Celeste looked at herself, wearing only a black lace bra with matching panties, then at the dress and shoes. She didn't have much of a choice to wear them, seeing as her clothes were gone and there was nothing else in the room. She quickly slipped the dress on, adjusting it around her breasts so that it wouldn't fall down, and put the shoes on. She took a few steps in the shoes, getting used to the feel of them. "What the hell is this?" She was confused and unsure. She had no idea where she was or what she was even doing there, now she was wearing a expensive dress, she could tell just by the smell, and shoes she would never be caught in. She fixed her hair in a mirror on a closet door, pulling all of it into her hands and wrapping it in a loose bun, letting a few strands loose to frame her face. She wasn't sure why she cared about how she looked, but she couldn't help but think that in the back of her mind that someone had gone to great lengths to get her the things she wore at the moment.

When she was finally ready she closed the closet and looked at the door. There is someone on the other side of that door, she thought. Her hand reached out toward the knob, but regressed slightly before completely clutching it. Celeste carefully turned in, her breathing in sync with her heartbeat. She turned the knob and cracked the door open, light immediately entering the room through the crack. She opened it completely and looked in: in front of her was a small living area, with a few couches and a large flat screen television, and next to that was an open bedroom, the bed the only visible thing she could see. Celeste stepped out of the bedroom, one foot crossing the other as she entered the living area slowly. As she drew closer she noticed that a man, in a black leather jacket and jeans, was sitting on the edge of the bed in the other room. Her brows furrowed and her head tilted to the side, becoming very cautious and hesitant at the sight of him. He must have registered her presence, for he looked at her then at the ground. Celeste took a few more steps toward him until she was just outside his bedroom, a few feet away from him.

"Who are you?" She asked, holding on to her arms feeling suddenly vulnerable.

"It's been more than a year." The man said. He tilted his head in her direction. "Have you any idea how long I searched for you?"

"Excuse me?" Celeste replied confused. The man stood up abruptly. Celeste took a few steps back in surprise; he was very tall-hovering over her like some type of predator in the sky-but he was also very attractive: his blonde hair slicked back, carefully parted on the side, his deep set blue eyes, pale skin, chiseled jaw structure, and the way his attire hugged his skin, outlining his defined abs under a black beater, his jeans loose but fitting around his legs, and the leather jacket that made him look even more appealing shocked Celeste. Her breath hitched in her throat. The man took a few steps toward her and she suddenly started to panic. She stepped backward, bumping into furniture in her attempt to evade him. "Stay back." Before she could do anything to prevent herself from falling, she bumped into a couch, her knees buckling underneath her and fell into it, somewhat laying and sitting down. He was in front of her, hovering over her again like that predator she recognized earlier. "Don't." She stretched out her arm to keep him away, her hand colliding with his chest. A bolt of cold washed over her, sending shivers down her spine. Celeste immediately retracted her hand, holding it in the other. "You're a vampire." Was all she could say. Fear shook her, her bottom lip quivered as he moved closer to her.

"You already know this." He said. Her breath hitched in her throat again.

"What do you want? Huh? I haven't done anything."

"But you have." His expression suddenly hardened.

"What?" Celeste didn't know why, but a sudden surge of anger began to boil inside of her. She didn't know where it was coming from, however, she felt, deep down inside, that this is how she should react. She should be yelling and thrashing and hitting instead of sinking into the couch, shaking from fear. It felt right, it felt familiar, but still, she wasn't sure why. "What? What have I done?" She blurted. "What the fuck have I done to deserve this?" Wrinkles formed on her forehead from frustration.

The man crossed his arms over his chest, his expression still hard and menacing. "Now that's the Celeste I know."

"Stop talking to me like you know me." She replied disgusted. The man kneeled in front of her, one of his hands going to her bare knee. She immediately smacked it away and hissed, her eyes filled with hatred, her lips slightly quivering in anger. He noticed this and growled deep down inside him, but this didn't phase Celeste. For some odd reason she wasn't afraid of him like she was of other vampires.

"I do know you," his expression softened a little as the hand that had been slapped away slowly moved next to her on the couch, moving to the hem of the dress and slightly tugging at it. "In more ways than one." She slapped his hand away again.

"Go fuck yourself." she snarled.

"I'd rather fuck you." He grinned and stood up. "Come," he offered her his hand. "it is time to go." Celeste crossed her arms under her breasts, unintentionally lifting them up, making them look fuller, and crossed her legs. This gesture caught his eye and a deep growl emerged from in his chest.

"I am not going anywhere with you." She looked at the wall, trying to find something to keep from meeting his gaze.

"It wasn't a question Celeste."

"Stop saying my name! Nobody even calls me that anymore! You don't know me! I don't know who you are! I don't even know where I fucking am!" She shot up from her seat, her body merely inches away from his. "I am leaving, and not with you." Before she could take even one step to the door she was pinned against a wall, her hands restrained on either side of her head, immobile by his large hands. His body was pressed close against her, strangled breaths coming from her lungs. The once stoic and teasing vampire darkened in front of her, his face hardening like some kind of demon sprung from hell for the first time. His voice course and husky as he spoke:

"You listen to me Celeste Monroe," He pressed his hard body closer to her, causing her to wince under the pressure and lack of air. "I don't give a fuck what you want. But you will not continue to play these childish games with me. You are mine now. You are my woman . . .and you are never leaving again. So keep pretending like you don't know me Celeste," he hissed against her ear. "keep pretending." His grip loosened and he released her, taking a few steps back, watching her gasp for air, clutching her throat as she coughed hard to breath again.

Eric departed to the bar, leaving Celeste alone in the room after his little stunt. You would think that after a thousand years of living he would have a grounded amount of self control-that nothing could get under his skin anymore; but yet things still managed to make him boil on the inside. He sat at the bar, not doing anything, just sitting there . . .thinking. Eric didn't know why he did it, he didn't know why he attacked her like that. Even in the past, for the short amount of time he knew Celeste, he never attacked her. Back then things were much simpler though. But maybe they weren't. Eric still had no idea of what happened in Las Vegas, or how Celeste was involved with the VAIN Organization. He didn't know what she was doing in Dallas or that she was even alive. But if Eric knew anything was for certain it was that Celeste had changed. Something, he wasn't sure what, was off with her. Whenever he cornered her in the past there was some type of resistance, whether it be her field or just mentally not being there, but when he pinned her against the wall there was no sign of that, not even a hint of it-only submission and fear. The Celeste Eric Northman knew would not have given in, let alone shown her fear, that easily.

While drowning in his thoughts, Eric did not notice when someone sat next to him at the bar.

"Why are you not with Celeste?" Eric immediately recognized the voice as Bill Compton's. He slightly turned to him, catching his eye, then looked away. "I hear there was a ruckus, coming from your room I presume?" Bill continued.

"That is none of your business." Eric replied caustically.

"We were all suppose to go for dinner an hour ago, to welcome Celeste back into our lives; however you and I are here, Sookie is in her room, and Celeste?" Bill turned his body towards Eric, leaning slightly against the bar counter.

"She is not herself." Eric replied quickly, his chin resting on his interlaced fingers as his elbows perched on the counter.

"I would expect that Eric." Bill grinned. "We haven't seen her for more than a year, she is bound to change."

"That is not what I mean."

"Then what do you mean?" Bill pressed. Eric thought for a moment. What did he mean? The incident with Celeste was awkward and alarming. He had never seen her in such a conflicted and confused state. Something just wasn't off with her, something was wrong with her. Her words, her actions, it was as if she was treating Eric as a complete stranger-as if she didn't know him at all. He replayed the scenario in his head over and over again, analyzing the situation from every different angle and using his past memories as a comparison. Eric couldn't defeat the fact that Celeste was altered, to what extent he wasn't sure, but he knew, just from the look in her eyes, that she didn't know who he was. Eric took an unnecessary deep breath out of habit while his interlaced fingers struggled not to ball into large fists.

"She does not remember me." He said finally.

Sookie's fingers drummed against her arms. She was infuriated to say the least: she was pissed off. She stood up from the couch, her anger and frustration overwhelming her, it was practically oozing from her skin. The fact that Bill and Eric could sense how she was feeling made her even more upset. If she knew Bill wouldn't come to the room, she would have completely destroyed it, crashing anything within arms reach and then some. How could Celeste be back? When she disappeared Sookie thought she was in the clear; she didn't have to worry about that whore stealing Eric, or him loosing interest in her. However, now that she was back, Sookie had no idea what she was going to do.

"Now that she's back, Eric's probably never gonna let her leave." She said to herself while pacing the length of the living room. "But that doesn't mean nothing's going to keep her from leaving." As she thought about it more and more, getting Celeste to be gone, permanently, became a tad bit more clearer. Someone came to mind. Someone she knew had a lot of interest in Celeste. She went to her purse and grabbed her cell phone, dialing the number from memory. She pressed the talk button and the phone started to ring.

Sam wiped down a few of the tables as Merlottes closed. Everyone else was taking their leave, but Sam felt restless, needing to do something. He worked around the bar, restocking, emptying bottles, making sure the trash was taken out, picking up left behind items or garbage. It was only when his cell phone rang that he took a moment to relax. He flipped it open and pressed the talk button. "Hello?" Sam sat down at one of the booths, feet hanging out on the side.

"Sam. It's Sookie."

"Hey Sook. Aren't you still in Dallas?" He picked at the corner of the table nonchalantly.

"Yeah, but I have to tell you something." She said, her voice stern. Sam furrowed his brows, as if she were in front of him and stopped picking at the table.

"What is it?"

"We found Celeste." At the mention of her name his heart sank. It took a second for his mind to register her words. He couldn't comprise a reply except to ask her again. When she gave him the same answer he slouched back into the seat, his heart pounding in his chest, his breathing coming our in long breaths.

"You found her?" He asked with as much composure as he could muster. "You're not fucking with me right?"

"We found her Sam, she's here in Dallas." Sam wasn't sure if Sookie was telling the truth, and honestly he wanted to believe her, but something about her voice made him believe she was lying.

"Why are you telling me this?" He asked, wondering if she was just telling him or trying to start something. There was a pause before she spoke.

"I know you're interested in her Sam." There was a long moment of silence. He waited for her to explain herself. "We're coming back tomorrow night. I want you to be at the airport when we arrive." She said.

"Why?"

"Why not?" Sookie asked. "Eric is gonna be keeping Celeste by his side once we get there; he isn't going to let her out of his sight."

"What does that have to do with me?" He asked uninterested, but growled at the thought.

"Heavens Sam! If you are not at that airport when we arrive there is no way in hell you are going to see her. Eric knows that you are interested in Celeste, and now that he has her back do you think he is going to let you see her? He is going to do everything in his power to keep her away from the bar. If you're at the airport there is no way Eric can hide you from her, not to mention he'll probably be in one of those Anubis coffin things, so he won't be able to do anything if you are there."

Sam thought about her words. He missed Celeste so much, and hated Eric for taking her to Las Vegas in the first place and returning to Bon Temps empty handed. There were so many things he wanted to do to that bastard at the moment, driving a stake through his face or putting him in a silver coffin and dropping it into a lake was just a few of the things on his list. He combed his fingers through his hair. Celeste was back, she wasn't dead. Celeste was back into his life, or at least would be very very soon, and this time, he wasn't going to let her go so easily. "Okay." Sam said finally. "What time?"

He could hear Sookie smiling as she spoke. "Around 2:30 or 3 a.m., maybe sooner. Just make sure you're their Sam, this may be the only chance you are going to get."

"Why are you doing this Sookie?" He asked abruptly. A few minutes passed before she replied. Sam repeated the question again, leaning forward as if she were right in front of him. He couldn't help but wonder what was keeping her from giving a reply, all he knew that it couldn't mean a good thing.

"I know how you feel about her Sam. I just think you should have a proper opportunity to express yourself to her." There was a pause. "And besides, do you really want her to be under the care of the man that lead her away and lost her in the first place?" Sam didn't wait much time to hang up on her. He didn't really believe what she said, but then again he didn't really care: all that mattered was that he was getting a second chance with Celeste, and he wasn't going to waste it.