A/N: I don't do well with being patient or delaying gratification or sticking to a schedule. So have a chapter!

Chapter 2

July 3, 1998

The dance floor was packed, and Sookie could feel the beat vibrating in her chest. Her arms were in the air and her eyes were closed as she moved to the music. She knew she was a good dancer, and she let herself go in it. She lost herself in the movement, in the sea of bodies and thoughts. She'd had three gin and tonics and she was feeling fine.

Two hands grabbed her hips and someone ground himself into her ass. She leaned back and put her arms around his neck, and they swayed together. She'd seen him looking at her. Could hear how much he wanted her. He was cute — blond and athletic with glasses and a nice smile — and she hoped that she could keep her shields up enough to use his body for the night. So far, so good.

She turned around and kissed him — as much to dip her foot into the pool as because she wanted to — and her mind was overtaken by his thoughts. They were all about her and what he wanted to do to her. It was a lot, but it might work if she could keep him focused and ride his lust to the finish line.

She pulled her mouth away. The music was too loud for talking so close to the speaker, so she sucked his earlobe into her mouth and then spoke loudly right into his ear. "Let's get out of here."

She grabbed his hand and pulled him through the crowd towards the door. He followed eagerly, but yelled out, "I don't even know your name!"

She hadn't heard him with her ears, but she turned around and walked backwards, still pulling him by the hand. She went with the name on her fake ID, like she always did. "Rose." She didn't bother asking his. She wouldn't have, even if she hadn't already known that it was Sean.

She backed into someone, and immediately reached out to gauge how nasty he or she was going to be because of it. Instead, she got... nothing. Her heart stopped before nearly pounding out of her chest.

"Hey. Watch it."

She spun around. When he saw her, his scowl turned into a leer. He was very attractive, with curly black hair and big brown eyes. She'd seen them before, through her father's eyes when she was four years old. She would never forget his face.

It was like one of her wildest fantasies and one of her worst nightmares had just poofed into existence, right in front of her. Her stomach felt like it was in her throat, but she smiled at him. She thought that she'd even managed to hide the crazy in it. She'd been working on it for just about ever. Her heart was still racing, but there was excitement mixed in with the fear. "Oops! Sorry!"

He pulled the leer into a charming smile. He had perfect teeth, although she knew that sometimes they grew long. Sometimes they bit. He put his hand to his chest. "No. It was entirely my fault. Please. Accept a drink in apology, Miss…?"

She looked back at Sean, and his shoulders fell. He knew that he'd been replaced. Something better had come along. He fucking cursed himself for asking her name. If he'd only waited a bit longer, until they were away from the noise and people, she wouldn't have literally run into this rich asshole who looked more like a model than anything else. Well, except for his height. She dropped Sean's hand, and he sighed and disappeared back into the crowd. He knew the score. And he'd felt like the luckiest guy in the club a minute ago.

Sookie smiled at the handsome monster. Her heart had even resumed a semi-normal rhythm. "I'm Rose Mitchell. And you are…?"

"I'm Victor Madden. And you are lovely." He picked up her hand and kissed it. She managed not to shudder.

"Thank you. I would love a drink."

He offered her his arm and she took it, and he escorted her to the VIP section. He led her to a booth and she slid in. He sat down next to her. A waitress was already waiting to take their order. Victor raised an eyebrow at Sookie and she smiled at the barmaid. "Gin and tonic." He ordered himself a glass of red wine, and she left to get the drinks.

Sookie's body was flooded with adrenaline, but the rapid heartbeat and dilated pupils just passed for attraction. She was glad to see that her hands weren't shaking. Victor reached over and took one. His fingers were cold.

"You don't sound like a local. What brings you to Las Vegas?"

"Just a vacation. A little bit of gambling and a whole lot of eating and drinking and dancing and having fun."

Sookie was actually there to do a lot of gambling, and it had worked out better than she could have imagined. Just a modest streak of good luck at the poker or blackjack table, over and over again, spread out up and down the strip. Not enough at one time or at any one place to ping any radars. And just slots and a little roulette at this casino, where her room was. Nothing that she could use her ability on. But she was going to be taking home five figures early the next afternoon. And not in the lower range, either. She had tuition to pay for, and Mama needed a new roof.

The waitress brought their drinks, and Sookie picked hers up as soon as it hit the table. She resisted the urge to drain it and ask for another. Maybe a double. She was happy for a little help lowering her inhibitions a bit more, but she had already had three drinks. And she needed to have her head on straight.

Victor rubbed her hand with his thumb. "Well, you have your drink. I would love to dance with you. We can grab a bite, and then I'll make sure you have fun. Over and over and over again. You'll never want to leave."

She threw back her head and laughed. She was afraid that it sounded hysterical, but he didn't seem to notice. He was too busy staring at her throat. "Is that a promise, Mr. Madden?"

"You can take it to the bank." He picked up her hand and kissed it again. "And, please. Call me Victor."

He was really laying it on thick. Sookie wanted to snatch her hand away in revulsion, but she couldn't waste this opportunity. And, if he killed her instead, that was a risk that she was willing to take. The problem was that it was a pretty big one. She had no plan. No hammer and stake. Not even her silver cross and chain. But she couldn't just let him go. She couldn't really miss her flight, either. And there was no way that she was going to sleep with him and then try to see him again when she was more prepared. No, if she slept with him, one of them would never have the chance to do it again. One way or another.

She licked her lips and then leaned over and whispered in his ear. "Victor, I think I'd like you to make a deposit."

He reached into his pocket for his money clip and peeled a twenty off of a very thick stack. He threw the bill down on the table and stood up. He offered her his hand and she took it, and he led her towards the door and out to the casino floor.

Some of the myths said that the monsters could hypnotize, and the thought made her blood almost run cold, too. But, if that were true, wouldn't the nice one have done it to her? Surely he wouldn't have wanted her to talk, but he'd just told her what to say and hoped for the best.

When they passed a bank of elevators, Sookie stopped and pulled him over to them. He let her. She pressed the up arrow. "I have a room upstairs."

The door opened just a moment later, and the lift was empty. She pulled him in and pressed the button for her floor. Before the door had even closed, he pushed her against the mirror on the back wall and she pulled his face down to hers and kissed him.

It was like she was disconnected in a way. Like the part of her that was both terrified and disgusted was off to the side, watching everything that was going on. But there was a cold part of her that had been born that night sixteen years before. And it had her hands in the monster's hair and her tongue in the monster's cold mouth. And she liked it. Her heart was still racing, but it was all excitement and anticipation now. And she was horny as hell. She had gone to the bar that night specifically because she wanted to get laid. The monster was extremely attractive and, best of all, his mind was silent.

The thought that the monster might turn her floated to the surface, but she shoved it back down again. She wasn't going to go there. She wasn't even really sure how it worked. All of the stories were different, and she'd read them all. Head in the sand or not, she couldn't let her fear keep her from doing what she needed to do. For Daddy and Gran and Granddaddy, but also for her mother and brother and aunt and cousin. And for herself. Maybe most of all.

She had an idea of what to do, but she was going to need the perfect time to try. And she thought that he would be much less on alert after sex than before. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

When the elevator dinged and the doors opened, he pulled away and she grabbed his hand and led him to her room. She fumbled the key out of her handbag and giggled when she nearly dropped it. He took it from her and opened the door.

Once it closed behind them, he pushed her up against it and they kissed again. He put his mouth against her neck and inhaled. All of the hairs on her body stood on end.

He pulled away and looked at her. "Rose, you smell absolutely delicious." The look in his eyes reminded her of how they'd looked when he'd said the word fairy, right before he and the other monsters had killed her father. Only this time, they looked hot instead of cold. But her fear felt like it was a million miles away. And the danger made her throb between her legs.

He sucked on her neck and she got more goosebumps. And part of her wanted him to bite her. Even though she'd watched them murder her father in the same way. Even though some myths said that it would turn her Vampire. Although, if that were true, wouldn't her father be alive? Well, undead?

She pulled off her dress and he took off his clothes. She manoeuvred him towards the bed, but stopped on the way to kiss him by the desk. She reached behind him and subtly closed the sketchbook that was on the edge, open to a mostly-finished drawing of one of the other murderers. She slid something out from underneath and made sure to keep it out of sight against her wrist.

She herded him the rest of the way to the bed, put her hand to his chest, and pushed. He let her sit him down. He liked a bossy bitch in the bedroom, as long as they knew their place everywhere else. She stood between his legs and kissed him, sliding the item under the comforter that was folded at the foot of the bed while she did. She hoped that it was in the right spot and wouldn't get knocked off onto the floor. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he grabbed two handfuls of her ass and squeezed.

She took a step back and unhooked her bra and then slid down her panties. They were black and lacy, and she saw the hunger in Victor's eyes when he watched her take them off.

"Fuck, your tits are incredible."

She possibly would have wanted to kill him just for that. But, no. She had no interest in hurting anyone except for the monsters who had slaughtered half of her family.

She stepped back up and kissed him again, but she couldn't wait any longer. She needed it. "I want you. Lie down and let me get on top."

He did, and she climbed on and slid down on his cock. It felt so dirty, but in a good way. She could hardly feel the revulsion settle into her stomach. A second pair of hands were on her hips tonight, and these ones, so cool on her skin, were rocking her at just the right speed. She had never been this turned on. He felt amazing inside her — so cold and hard and taboo — and sex when she was alone inside her own head was incredible. Mind blowing. She cupped her breasts in her hands, pinching her nipples, and he started moving her a little bit faster. She knew that he was getting close, but she was closer. She came first, crying out and arching her back. She reached behind her, under the comforter.

He squeezed her hips and pushed up into her, pulling her down hard onto his cock when he started to cum. Shooting as deep inside her as he could get. She knew that he would definitely bite her in round two. Part of her wanted to wait until then. She wanted him again. He closed his eyes and stretched his head back, exposing his throat.

She said a silent prayer and plunged the pencil into his chest. He looked up at her and his eyes glowed red. She was sure that she was going to die. But then he just sort of fell apart underneath her.

All of the fear and horror and revulsion slammed back into her all at once, and she scrambled for the bathroom. She threw up in the toilet over and over again. She washed her face, and then decided that she needed to shower. It was a long time before she felt clean enough to stop.

She packed up her things and pulled up the corners of the bedding so that she could bundle his clothes and ash and whatever else together inside. She thought for a minute and then grabbed his money clip out of his pocket. She threw the cash into the bag with her winnings, and the clip back in the bundle after she wiped off her prints. She stuck the sheet and its contents in one of the shopping bags from her trip to the boutique stores the evening before.

She left her key and a tip for the maid — generous but not memorable — and grabbed her sketchbook. She stuck it in her backpack and looked around to make sure she had everything. She took a deep, shaky breath and then left the room. She took the stairs down to the lobby.

She caught a shuttle to the airport and then went straight to the Alamo desk. She rented a car as Rose and drove to Los Angeles, stopping outside Barstow for a cup of coffee and to throw the bundle of Victor away in a dumpster behind an AMPM. She found a flight to Dallas from Bob Hope International in Burbank, and booked it as Sookie. She rented a car — as herself again — in Dallas, and drove back to Bon Temps. She had Jason follow her to Shreveport to take back the rental, and she gave him a hug goodbye when he dropped her off back at the farmhouse.

She went straight to her childhood bedroom and pulled her sketchbook out of her backpack. She flipped through, stopping at each of the drawings of Victor. This was only the latest book, though. She had the evolution of the monsters — or at least her drawings of them — going all the way back to when she was four years old, stacked up in the back of her closet. Those early ones were done in crayon, not the thick, chunky pencils that she preferred now for sketching. Unconventional, but it was just how she rolled.

She looked at the most recent one. Of course, he hadn't changed a bit. And she had captured every nuance. She'd had lots of practice.

She tried not to think about getting caught or what she'd done. Not the killing him part. She kind of liked thinking about that. But the part before she'd killed him. Or how much she'd enjoyed it. Instead, she thought about finding the rest of them, and killing them, too. And if she had to sleep with them all to knock down their defenses, well then that was a sacrifice she was willing to make.