A/N: Hello Everyone. This is probably my fastest update ever! As well as my shortest, but probably most dramatic, chapter ever! So yes, i do apologize for the length, it's about less than half of what my usual chapters are. Also, everyone is very much aware that this story is rate M (for it's obvious reasons), but I would like to make a special note on this one. There is a reference to murder/suicide, so I would like everyone to take note of this and if I have offended anyone or if anyone finds it disturbing in any way shape or form, i had no intention of doing either. I am simply amping up the plot so to say. So please enjoy this chapter, I had a bit of fun writing it, and please please please review. It would be greatly appreciated. Thank you :)

Chapter 19: Sharp Ends

Time had taken its toll

She had no place to go

They found her body resting by the river

I couldn't hear her cries

As she filled her veins with lies

Until she saw the light

Eric shook in his seat, his hands clasped together so tightly that if he were still human, the circulation through them would have ceased. Pam stood in the corner of the room, by the door, watching him. She didn't know what to do, but with the recent events she knew he needed to know exactly what he was dealing with. She hesitantly approached him, not daring to get to close while he was in the state of what seemed to be pure rage and confusion. She folded her arms over her chest and looked at the ground; she knew what they had to do, even if Eric wouldn't say it.

"We cannot trust her Eric." Pam said. She glanced at him then back at the ground. "The evidence is undeniable. We have to get rid of her."

"She doesn't remember." Eric replied through clenched teeth.

"How do we know that?" Pam stepped forward. "How do we know that she hasn't been lying to us this entire time? Her presence here is putting all of us in jeopardy."

"We don't know that." Pam wasn't sure if he was talking about the lying or the risk part. Eric was stubborn, and she knew that better than anyone. And she also knew that his judgment could become clouded with matters of great importance to him. Pam took a deep breath out of habit and looked at him.

"What if the Magister comes here?" His eyes met hers, finally, but his gaze began to wander. "If the Magister comes back to Bon Temps and finds out that we are housing the most wanted human that every vampire is looking for . . .what are we going to do? We will all be implicated."

"We have to make sure that doesn't happen. We can't draw to much attention to ourselves as we have in the past." Eric drummed his fingers on the desk, trying to remain calm and collected.

"That's all you can say?" Pam was flabbergasted. "We have to get rid of her Eric!"

"I will not let Celeste go again!" With his vampire speed Eric shot up from his desk and slammed his fist on the surface, breaking it in half. "I cannot let her disappear again!"

"They have her on video Eric!" Pam shot back. "I showed it to you! You can see her face! You saw it with your own eyes that it was Celeste that killed the Sheriff of District 8! You cannot deny that." Pam calmed herself. Eric slumped back in his seat. Pam was right. The footage she showed him from the security cameras of the villa of the Sheriff of District 8 would stand against him if the Magister ever returned to Bon Temps and found out that they were holding Celeste. They were in deep shit, to say the least, and Eric Northman was torn. Was he going to hand the woman he had feelings for over to the Magister? Or risk everything protecting a wanted murderer of the most respected, and now deceased, vampire sheriff? There was so much to loose, but would Eric be willing to give it all up for a woman that didn't remember anything-or supposedly didn't remember anything? The only way to find out was to go to the source, and he knew exactly where she was.

Sam handed Celeste a hot cup of coffee and sat down next to her on the couch. She smiled as she received it and wrapped her cold clammy hands around the mug, immediately feeling the warmth of the steaming liquid. She inhaled the scent of nutmeg and hazelnut like it was some kind of delicate and rare flower, one to be cherished and preserved. Sam looked at her quizzically and grinned.

"You know I have more if you want some later?" Celeste looked at him out the corner of her eye and laughed lightly.

"I'm sorry, I must look really stupid right now. Worshipping coffee like this."

"Actually it's kinda entertaining. I never seen someone be so umm . . .intimate? With a cup of Joe."

Celeste laughed and set the cup down on the table. Suddenly their was a shift in the atmosphere. Rather, a shift in her. She could feel something boiling inside her, like a volcano just before it explodes. That momentary silence and intake of breath just before the waves of a tsunami come crashing and flooding the earth. Celeste knew the feeling to well.

"Sam," She turned to him. "You like me don't you?" Sam almost choked on the bit of coffee he had in his mouth. He set the mug down on the table and cleared his throat.

"Yeah, of course."

"I mean as more than a friend." Sam noticed the change in her tone. It wasn't the sweet and kind voice that he became familiar with, but a somewhat harsh and menacing one with a hint of urgency.

"Are you alright?" He took her hand in his, however, Celeste quickly snatched it away.

"Sam, if you know what's good for you, you'll stay away from me."

"What are you talking about?" His brows furrowed together. "Are you in some kind of trouble?" Celeste got up.

"You want to do me a favor Sam?" She went to the door and slightly opened it. "Stay away from me, I don't want anyone else getting hurt." Celeste ran out the door as fast as she could. Sam jumped up from the couch and ran to the door; he could see nothing in the darkness, not the outline of her figure or anything. He yelled her name, and ran out there, looking frantically for her. But she was no where to be seen, she was gone.

Sam grabbed his cell phone out of his pocket and was about to speed dial Sookie's number, until Eric Northman appeared in front of him out of thin air. Sam jumped back at the sudden appearance of the vampire.

"Where is Celeste?" Eric demanded, his teeth clenched and fangs protruding in full display to the shifter. A snarl formed on Sam's lips, his lips quivering and eyes fixed on the vampire.

"That is not your concern." In an instant, Sam found himself pressed against the outside of his trailer, Eric's forearm fixed firmly under his jaw, holding the shifter a few feet of the ground.

"Where is she? I will not ask again." He growled. Gasping for air, Sam clutched at Eric's arm, trying to push him away. Eric released some of the pressure long enough for Sam to drag out:

"I don't know. She ran off."

"What did you do?" Eric reapplied the pressure, thinking that Sam might have forced himself on her or made her do something she didn't want to.

"Nothing," Sam's face began to turn a light shade of blue and red. "We were talking and she ran!" His voice screeched out. Eric dropped him and looked away. Sam lie in the cold dirt, his face planted against the muck and gasped for air like a dying animal. He coughed severely and clutched his now bruised throat. Eric looked over his shoulder, down at him.

"If I ever see you near Celeste again, I will not be so lenient with you." And as quickly as Eric came, he was gone.

Malcolm looked at the Council with disdain. He could not believe what they were thinking. What they were planning.

"She still has much value to us Malcolm. You should not be so upset." One of the members said in the most sickening sincere voices he had ever heard.

"We were supposed to have nothing else to do with her!" He yelled.

"Watch your tone boy!" One of the older members boomed. "When you are in our presence you will speak to us with respect." The others nodded in approval.

"She completed her task, and you pushed aside her requests for you own gain. So that you may use her again. Have you no honor?"

"Celeste is one of a kind Malcolm. She is a commodity to whosoever she is with. I would expect you to understand that." Another spoke.

"But is Margo not as valuable than she?" There was momentary silence.

"Margo . . .is not as experienced, skilled, talented, strong, or tame as she. Celeste is a leader, and one of the strongest at that. Next to her, Margo is only a recruit. We are telling you first, because we thought you would be happy to hear this, considering your past relationship with her."

Malcolm could not bring himself to look at them. What they were planning on doing was . . .impossible. It was a fools errand. Up till now, Malcolm had always respected the Councils decisions, they were wise and experienced, but that was also a bad thing. They were getting much older, so their minds were not in the right place. He took a breath to calm himself and met their eyes again.

"What you plan on doing is man slaughter. There are only so few of us left and you want to put the rest of our forces in this impossible task?"

"It must be done to protect the human race."

"The human race?" Margo yelled. "If you go on with this more people will die than the world has ever seen! There will be no one left!"

"It is a small price we will have to pay."

"And how do you expect to get Celeste back to do this?" Malcolm barked. "I assume by her own free will?" He mocked. "She won't come within a thousand miles of this place."

"She will come." One of them spoke. "She has been long without medication. A few of our sources that have been keeping tabs on her have already seen the signs and symptoms of regression. Celeste will come. By her own free will. Because if she doesn't, she will die."

Eric looked up at the building that he was once so familiar with. He remembered the first time he entered, speeding past the cameras and dashing up the stairs. Even as he stood before the door he could remember exactly what he did: the way he knocked, how he stood, he could even remember the clothes he wore and the way it smelt through the door. But this time it was different. Eric reached for the door knob and turned it, it was unlocked. In one swift moment that seemed to happen in slow-motion, the door opened. It was dark, except for the candles that dotted the surfaces of the kitchen and living room, casting demeaning shadows across the floors and walls, dancing and flickering over the surfaces.

Eric stepped in, closing the door silently behind him. In the center of the living room it was dark, minus the flickering candles that dotted the side of the walls, and inn the center of the center, he saw the too familiar white fur, half-circle, rotating seat - the enclosed back facing him. He couldn't believe that after a year, the apartment had been untouched. Eric silently approached, stepping lightly on the hard wood floor.

"Celeste." He spoke her name slowly, afraid that she would fun off. The white fur chair slowly rotated around, the squeaking of the wheels making the only sound in the empty house. At the sight of her, Eric took a deep breath. Her face was pale, and slightly sunken in. Her hair was in a disarray and the clothes she wore, which were dark blue jeans and a grey tank top now, were tattered and worn-out. Her breathing came out haggard and struggled and in her right hand, dangling over the arm rest of the chair like a broken limb, was a small silver Taurus 44 Magnum Revolver.

Eric took a step closer, his hand reached out toward the gun. "Celeste," He spoke her name gently. "What are you doing?" Silent tears streamed down her face.

"I can't do it anymore Eric." The gun flicked in his direction. He regressed slightly but continued with caution.

"Celeste." He said warningly, taking slow and gentle steps toward her. "Give me the gun." More tears flowed from her eyes. Eric was terrified for her. He had no idea what was going through her head.

"I can't." She moaned out. Her hands started to shake and her breathing became more struggled. "I can't pretend anymore. I can't do this anymore." Eric was just within hands reach of the gun.

"Celeste, give me the gun." He begged. "Give it to me." Blood began to pool in his eyes, but he made no attempt to wipe it away. "Give me the gun, Celeste. We can talk about this."

"No." Before Eric could blink the gun was no longer directed at him, but at her right temple. Celeste closed her eyes, tears pouring from them as her sobs filled the silence. "I cant do it anymore."

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