A/N: I'm aware it's not Wednesday, and that I am breaking my own 2-week posting rule - but hey, it's mine to break, right?

As always, thanks to my beta Mrskroy and every single reader. The chapter name is an apropos song title and its artist.

xXxXxXxXx Present Day xXxXxXxXx

Outwardly, my first child loathed his new sister, avoiding her presence at all costs and acting to an extent as if she did not exist. He treated her as one does the dirt on his shoes, as if she were merely an annoyance, a trifling thing in his way.

But, in truth, I knew better.

He had been taken her with long before she became my child, and he could not stand to think that on some level she was not wholly unaware of his intentions towards her. So he peacocked, strutting around with his head held high, and pretended to be impassive and coldhearted, unaffected by her emotionless quietude. But I read clearly in our bond that he was more disturbed by it than I was.

oOoOoOoOo Flashback oOoOoOoOo

Inhaling unnecessarily, I woke from my day death with banalities consuming my waking thoughts, expecting yet another uneventful night to round out what had become a string of never-ending and monotonous years. In my old age, I had become weary, immune to the excitement others seemed to fixate on. The world had lost all its once glorious and appealing lustre, its sheen, donning instead a palate bespeckled with many shades of gray. Everything, despite my heightened senses, felt muted, no longer vibrant or loud.

I wondered if perhaps time and I had become adversaries as of late, imagining the answer was easier than I cared to admit.

I tarried as I dressed, finding little incentive to hurry through such mediocre tasks to start on others as equally unexciting. I selected a simple off-white linen tunic, pairing it with some dark wash jeans. I pulled both on slowly, sitting afterwards on the edge of my four-poster bed for several quiet minutes before rising to acknowledge the insistent knock signally that the needs of my job had come to call.

My one respite in the drowning doldrums of dreary dullness was my duty to the Dallas night-dwellers. As Sheriff of my Area, I held a position of power over those hundreds of years younger than I, ruling my small piece of Texas with an iron fist, but a gentle hand.

I was respected, admired, revered – and bored out of my ever-loving mind.

"Master Godric," My assistant Sabine met me at my bedchamber door, carrying a stack of papers that likely required my signature, "You have quite the night ahead of you. Your schedule leaves little time for personal matters, but surely, we can squeeze in a little supper for you…"

"I will hunt later, if time allows."

I said, effectively dismissing her unspoken concerns. I studied her face as she digested my words, eager to see if her stoicism would rule her emotional response. She did not disappoint, belying nothing in her expression, accepting my statement with a small nod. She abstained from remarking on my lack of appetite as of late, although I imagined it disturbed her.

I had not partaken from the nest's small donor pool in over a week's time.

"The Sheriff of Louisiana's Area Five called at night's break," Sabine continued, rustling through her papers to extract a small note with numbers scribbled on it, "He insists he has Area business he needs to discuss with you. He requested you return his call at your first convenience."

She held the paper out to me. I walked away and towards my office instead of reaching for it. Out of the corner of my eye, I spied her tucking the message back into her stack before she followed after me. I opened the door, stepping to the side to allow her to enter first, leaving it ajar as I swept towards my desk.

"I will leave this all here for you," Sabine set down my schedule and itinerary in front of me before turning on her heel to leave. She paused in the doorjamb, her hand curled around the molding, "Shall I send in Isabel once she arrives?"

I nodded, and with that I was left alone to my thoughts. As I lifted the night's schedule, I could not help but think, 'it is a different day and they are different vampires, but the problems are all the same.'

In truth, I was not sure how much more I could take. Two thousand years was an unnaturally long time to spend wandering the earth, and I could not ignore its toll on me. I longed to simply lay down and die, like I had seen so many humans do as they expired; their bodies animated one moment and stilled the next.

I found myself irritatingly jealous of the creatures I had previously believed to be lesser to my kind.

"Report out."

I commanded from my seat at the desk as Isabel glided into the room, her black hair flowing behind her in shiny, loose waves.

Isabel was one of the most light-footed among us, and possibly the most elegant. She struggled more than most to appear authoritative and unbreakable – her place as my second often challenged, but never truly threatened. Unlike others, she passed as human with relative ease, beguiling them with her charms and perfected mannerisms. Her chameleon-like affectations would serve her well once she was called upon to straddle the fence between the supernatural world and the human world, once she assumed my job.

Because in truth, I had been covertly grooming her towards being the towering force I knew she was capable of being, because I intended for her to take over my position in less than a decade's time.

"It has been confirmed that Jasper crossed state lines shortly after night's break. Collin trailed not so distantly behind him to further reinforce that his crimes will not be tolerated in Texas, and that his presence is no longer welcome. Oklahoma intends to reject him the moment he checks in with his local Sheriff, and Damon has assured me he will meet his true death before sunrise – by accident, of course."

Her Spanish lilt pervaded her speech, hugging each syllable as it slipped through her crimson lips. Standing at attention, she continued to debrief me on Area news, offering in great detail the moves made by those like Jasper, who had been punished the night before, and the future grievances that would be brought before me as I held court.

It was unfortunate her maker had met his true death shortly after her turning; he would have been so proud of the vampire she had become.

"Isabel," I said with a punctuated wave of my hand, turning on my heel to exit, "I… have other plans for this evening. You will act in my stead for the night."

I did not have anywhere else I was obligated to be, but I wanted time to reflect, to be by myself. Plus, Isabel needed the experience, to learn firsthand how to handle disputes and infractions. She was capable, and I had every bit of faith that she would accomplish the task with the easy grace I had come to associate her with.

"Godric?" Isabel asked, in a fashion unbefitting to her station, as if she feared my answer, "Are…" She hesitated, her whisper-quiet tone belying her normally stoic countenance, "…you sure?"

She was smart to be afraid; she had indeed angered me.

Irritation rife in my tone, I bared my fangs and growled out, "You dare to question your Sheriff?!"

"My apologies, Godric. It was not my intent to challenge you," Isabel moved to sit across from me, stiffening against the plush red fabric of the Queen Anne chair, "I appreciate that you trust me to handle the court on my own, that you will allow me to hand down judgment in your Area. It is a great honor indeed. I only wished to confirm I had heard you correctly – that you would like me to take over your duties – but my word choice was poor and for that there is no excuse."

She did everything with a graceful ease, including lie.

"There is not," I responded, calm washing back over me as I caged my usually tame emotions, lifting from my seat to take my leave. Isabel nodded her head in deference, and I resisted the urge to give her shoulder a light squeeze as I passed her by.

"Oh, and Isabel? When you have a spare moment, give the Sheriff of Louisiana's Area Five a call. He has Area business he would like to discuss."

She quirked an eyebrow at my words; her confusion apparent, but unspoken. Isabel was more than aware that the Sheriff in question had likely expected to hear back from me, and not my Lieutenant.

Because the Sheriff of Louisiana's Area Five was not just any vampire, he was my child.

I wandered aimlessly about Dallas, traveling in no particular direction but finding myself by the nearest body of water – White Rock Lake. I kept to the shadows, finding their cover familiar, comforting. Still early on in the night, the trail still entertained more human exercisers than I usually preferred in such close proximity, but the water called to me so I ignored their presence. Standing close to the water's edge, down a ways from the paved path, I watched it dance and swirl under the moon's soft glow, allowing myself to slip into a trance-like state, a sort of downtime.

I inhaled slowly, deliberately, to allow the water's scent to wash over me, only to be bombarded by a pungent perfume-like aroma instead. It caused my knees to weaken and my fangs to drop with an audible snick. I retracted them almost immediately, suppressing the involuntary urges ringing through my body. I was shocked, but not dismayed. I had not experienced anything like this in over a thousand years. I closed my eyes and took a deep inhalation.

It was exciting. It was exhilarating. It was life-affirming.

It was a fairy.

'Or at least a partial one,' I thought as my eyes opened to search for the source of the smell. I discerned without much effort that it belonged to the blonde-haired beauty jogging down the dimly lit track without a care in the world. She was covered in glistening sweat, which explained why she reeked of a sickeningly sweet scent that was only familiar to the oldest among my kind. Who had abandoned this young Fae child in the Human Realm to survive among wolves and vampires? Did she know what she was, and how her blood would sing a siren's song to any who caught her perfume – caught her?

I doubted it.

She appeared defenseless and wholly unawares of her surroundings as she bobbed her head along to the music screaming in her ears. At least, I assumed it was deafening loud since I could hear her selection with perfect clarity – Bach? Such a surprising choice for adolescent humans these days. More often than not, the music deemed popular for this day and age assaulted my ears and made me curse my heightened senses.

I was intrigued. I was surprised. I was fascinated.

I was very hungry.

And the blood of a Fae would, at least for a short time, paint my gray world in Technicolor, get me high as a kite. Part of me itched for the sensations it would send through me, the life it would breathe into my otherwise deadened existence. But I was not a rogue, nor did I want to count myself among those who were, so I shrugged off the desire, caging my beast in the process. The monster inside me did not go easily into that good night, but it acquiesced all the same – I was its master, it was not mine.

I watched her from a distance, still very much interested in her even after deciding I would not partake in her blood. Risking exposure, I vamped up behind her as I spotted another of my kind making eyes at her, one I imagined was much than honorable than myself. I slowed to a pace similar to hers as I motioned for the vampire to cease his attentions and leave the young girl to her run. She misinterpreted my actions, increasing her speed to put distance between us. In response, the vampire clicked his fangs down, his eyes clouding black – like so many of us, he loved the thrill of the hunt, chasing down his prey. He had full intents to attack her, and also to defy a direct order from his Sheriff.

This would not do; this would not do at all.

I flew at him before he could pounce, grabbing him by the neck and slamming him against a tree.

"I will NOT tolerate defiance, permit insubordination!"

I growled out in his face as I snapped off a twig from the Cedar Elm. The darkness in his eyes receded as fear overtook him, and I knew he expected his final death. I was ready to deliver it to him; I could not allow news to travel that I had suffered his disobedience, let him limp away with his petty life. In less than seconds, I punctured his heart swiftly, and he crumbled to dust within my grip.

The paperwork would be a nightmare, but it would be worth it. The girl had her life, and I had temporarily shrugged off the boredom that had shackled itself to me. Small mercies.

"What?"

The sweet dulcet tones of the girl's voice startled me as I realized that the volume of my voice must have exceeded the decibel of her music. What had she heard? More importantly, what had she seen?

"I did not mean to scare you!"

I called back hoping to sound more like a contrite human, and less like a predator.

Suddenly and inexplicably, I became concerned by the dust clinging to my clothes. There were remnants of the finally dead vampire all over me; how would I explain that if she came close? I threw my arms into the air to shuck it away from me as she watched me, her gaze not dropping for a second. Her expression was unreadable, and I wondered if I had by some twist of fate I had managed to avoid detection, if she had not actually seen anything damning or distasteful.

But I could not leave such a thing to chance, and I knew I would have to erase her memories, glamour her to forget me. Could fairies even be glamoured? It was a question I did not have the answer to, but I was going to find out.

"What do you want?"

She hollered back at me, making no moves to close the gap between us. Her body language was clear; she wanted me over here, and not so much near her. I concurred; her scent was more potent up close, and I did not wish for temptation to threaten my resolve not to harm her. So I did not approach her, remaining much too far away to capture her eyes. But I could see, even from this distance, they were sparkling, fathomless. Though she only looked to be in her early teens, she was already incredibly striking – a sure sign of her Fae heritage – and anyone could plainly see she was going to grow to be a stunning young woman. Something inside me begged me to tell her that, and so I did.

"To say 'hello!' You are quite beautiful, you know!"

I could not say why I continued to engage the human, even after she threatened to cause me harm by way of pepper spray. She even gruffly and rudely refused to tell me her own name after I offered mine. Her distaste with me was as apparent as my interest in her. It was as if she had hypnotized me, and I thought perhaps fairies possessed skills above and beyond what my maker had taught me. Consumed by the concern that I had somehow been glamoured by her, I was shaken back to reality as I heard her cry out, crumbling to the ground as her ankle gave way beneath her as she turned on her heel to sprint away from me.

This would not do; this would not do at all.

Vamping to her side while her head was opportunely hung low, I tamped down my surprise as she struggled to her feet, whimpering her pain as she attempted to limp-run away from me. I had been too quick to assume she had not witnessed the encroaching vampire's true death. If anything, her actions now suggested she had not only seen it, but she suspected what I was – a monster in the night, someone to run from. I needed her eyes, to push my memory from her mind, so I offered her my arm and spoke at the softest, most human sounding tone I could muster.

"I mean you no harm… Here, I can help…"

I did not initially seek contact with her skin, realizing if I touched her, she would transfer her scent to me, and I would carry her sweet smell with me – back into my nest. Her honeyed perfume could easily provoke a litany of murders from the youngest of vampires if I was not careful to scrub the encounter harshly from my skin before returning for the night. And then the frenzy would transform into a full-force bloodlust, a horde of vampires hunting for a single sugary fairy treat.

It would be chaos. It would be mayhem. It would be beast-rattling.

It would be impossible to protect her.

Why did I care so much for her well-being?

I had thought it several times during our short exchange, but each rendition resurfaced with additional worries and concerns. My behavior was becoming increasingly unexplainable, and I began to feel certain she had somehow charmed me with her fairy wiles. I did not know if it was possible – perhaps that was a thing.

Fairies were secretive by nature, and to my knowledge had not graced the Human Realm in well over a thousand years. Rumor had it they fought amongst themselves more often than they aligned, and that yet another civil war had been waging for the past couple of decades. To my recollections, the grapevine gossiped that fairy-human hybrids were being culled without impunity. Was she actually safe? Did her kin know where she was? I imagined the answer to both was a firm and unyielding no.

"I'm trying to get away from you."

She responded to my aid in the most delightful way possible, and I stifled the urge to join her in laughing, noting the unshed tears the accompanied her utterance. I did not wish to upset her further. I had meant what I had said before, I did not mean to scare her.

"I know, but I can still help you to do that."

I said, earning a confused expression as she digested my words. I could help her to get away from me because once I glamoured her, it would be as if I had never existed.

I was not particularly thrilled by the notion.

I spied the tension in her form relax as she reached out to grasp my arm, steadying herself against me. Her skin felt like fire against mine, and I felt unfamiliarly exposed, as if my temperature would give her all the ammunition she needed to discern my true nature. I gripped her forearm in turn, increasing the pressure ever so lightly until she stiffened minutely. I loosened it instantly, but only slightly. I had not handled a human in hundreds of year, but I remembered that they had a penchant for being breakable – I needed to know how much force I could apply without causing her damage.

It was not a scientific experiment in nature, but it had sufficed to fulfill its purpose.

"Thank you."

She said with a small smile, peering into my eyes with a conveyance of blind trust I had not expected. The smallest tinge of regret bloomed inside me as I betrayed her confidence, pushing my glamour at her mind. I wanted to know the name of the part-fairy girl I was going to part ways with, the one I had killed for – even though I would call that horse by a different color if questioned for my decision to deliver the true death without a trial.

But she surprised me; it was as if she had read my mind.

"I'm Sookie Adele Harding, but I go by Addy…"

It did not appear that my glamour had taken hold, and I was unnerved – also somewhat irritated. At two thousand years old, my glamouring abilities were second to none. And yet she had resisted them.

That would not do; that would not do at all.

I interrupted her, redoubling my efforts to capture her in my thrall.

"I do not wish to call you 'Addy.' Sookie is such an extraordinary name. I would prefer to refer to you in an exceptional manner, by the unique name with which you have been blessed."

She looked pensive for a moment, screwing her countenance up into another unreadable expression as her blue orbs became glassy, her gaze far off and distance.

"Okay... you may call me Sookie instead of Addy."

Internally, I breathed a sigh of relief; it seemed she could be glamoured after all. Thanks the Gods. I opened my mouth to tell her she would not remember me or the events of this night, to remove all vestiges of our interaction. But she raised a finger to indicate she would prefer my silence, catching me off guard. I retracted my earlier conclusion.

Apparently, the answer was no, vampires could not glamour fairies – at least not this one.

"…but only if I can call you Ezra, instead of Godric."

She was so forward! She was so presumptive! She was so aggravating!

She was so… akin to a breath of fresh air!

I should have been offended, balked at her request and treated her as I was raised, as if she was merely one of the many human cattle that quenched my thirst. But I could not bring myself to do so. For one, she was other, a fairy, deserving of a station at least one notch above food, although she was not of my kind. But additionally, she had recolored my world, painted it with reds and purples and blues, as I looked at my surroundings with new eyes. Vibrant hues surrounded me, and I felt a renewed sense of vigor, like I was actually the seventeen year old boy who stood in front of her, instead of the vampire who had stalked about the earth for well over two thousand years.

I did not care how she had managed to spark these feeling in me; I liked them. If she had in fact glamoured me, I never wanted to be removed from her spell. I wanted to bask in her radiating sunshine forever, and if one day it burned me to a crisp? So be it, I would die a happy vampire.

Happy! I could not believe my outlook had shifted so wildly, so rapidly.

Irrespective of the singing ambrosia swirling within her veins, she was infinitely fascinating to me. She was an amalgam, a contradiction, a witch. She had enchanted my very soul, like a soothing balm to my misery. No, it was more than that; the feeling was not indescribable, undefinable. I had felt this way once before – a thousand years ago. Family, she felt like family. It was the pull, I could not ignore it, she was meant to be my vampire child. Not today, but one day – someday.

Mirth danced in my eyes as I agreed to the terms of acquaintanceship she had put forth, wondering if now she indeed counted me among her friends and not her foes. I hoped so.

"Yes, Sookie; I will agree to your stipulation. You, and only you, may call me Ezra."

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Although my fatalistic feelings had disturbed my vampire child – the Sheriff of Louisiana's Area Five – the influx of joy and amusement trickling across our maker-child bond the past year or so had him downright distraught. His fears spiked as my happiness peaked after a particularly exhilarating field trip to Arlington with Sookie. She had unequivocally declared me her friend, and I had discovered, screaming my lungs for no reason at all, that I did very much enjoy the thrill of riding rollercoasters at Six Flags over Texas. Sookie had assured me I would, and she was correct.

But Eric, my progeny, could no longer handle the uncertainty regarding my mental state, and when I rose from my day death the next night, eager to meet Sookie for our weekly run, Sabine intercepted me. Eric, Sheriff of Louisiana's Area Five, had booked my first, second, and third appointment for the evening.

When he arrived, I ushered him away from the nest – from the prying eyes and eavesdropping ears – towards the closest human running trail. Dallas had few wooded areas save those paths, and I wanted as much privacy as possible when I shared my intentions to take a new child, just as soon as she came of age. Plus, it was where I was supposed to meet Sookie, and I did not intend to cancel our plans.

"Fader, your feelings as of late, they have… changed…"

He was not wrong, and I was nearly desperate to explain why, to assuage his worries and fears.

"Yes, my son. After all these years, I feel the pull once agai..."

"Ezra!"

Sookie shouted, inadvertently interrupting me.

"You let that human call you Ezra?"

Eric snorted, annoyed and slightly jealous, as Sookie bounded over to us.

She had discovered our hidden spot off of the beaten path of the Katy Trail with relative ease. One day I was going to figure out exactly how she did that, found me without trying. She was drenched once again in her sweet fairy smell, the product of exercise and sweat. Eric crinkled his nose, and growled lowly, instinctively. The glare I shot him carried a nonverbal threat he knew better than to ignore.

I had hoped after our initial exchange I could put forth a convincing, but subversive argument to Sookie that running should not be her preferred pastime, especially after nearly spraining her ankle. But my future child was willfully strong, and defiant, and I swore when I suggested she run less, she had instead doubled her efforts. I could not be sure because she had made one concession, larger in nature than she realized – now she only jogged at night with me.

At least when the rubber met the moonlit road – literally – I could ensure her safety.

"Hey!" She panted out, her breath haggard and uneven, "What are you doing all the way over here?"

"We," Eric responded with a derisive tone, irritation cascading through the maker-child bond we shared, "were having a private conversation."

"Is that your dad?"

Sookie whispered to me meekly, her eyes wide in fear and her timbre shaky. I suppressed the urge to break out into laughter; her behavior would suggest she had not meant it as a joke.

My vampire son was nearly one thousand years my junior, but he most certainly looked older than me. However, it was not quite so much of an age difference that he looked like he could have fathered me –if we were both human, that was. At the time of his turning, he was a young man, aged somewhere in his mid-20s, possibly seven or eight years older than I was at my change into vampire. It was hard to say with certainty; humans were less apt in those times to count the passing years of their short lifespans.

Honestly, I could not understand why Sookie thought we were related at all.

Irrespective of our meager age difference, my child and I bore little resemblance to one another. Eric was about a head taller than me at six foot four with blonde hair and sea blue eyes, a counterbalance to my brown hair and eyes. But given our mannerisms around each other, despite our physical differences, some had questioned if we were family. But no one had ever asked if he was my father; Sookie was the first.

"I am NOT his father!" Eric barked back through gritted teeth.

The mere suggestion that she counted him among her elders, thought he looked old, had stoked the burgeoning embers of hate within Eric, whipping them into a fire – even though the two had yet to be introduced.

My son was not without his vanities.

Sookie relaxed instantly at his scream, and I wondered why it had relieved her instead of scaring her. I shrugged off my curiosity quickly; this reaction was consistent with the other eccentric behavior I had seen from her. In the few months I had known her, she had proved time and time again she was an odd little part-fairy girl.

"Huf-fy," Sookie quipped back, punctuating her syllables and craning her neck up so that her eye roll would not go unnoticed by my child. He had a good foot of height on her, but she obviously found his towering presence the opposite of intimidating. Then Sookie turned her back on Eric, effectively shutting him out – his anger swelled and I shot him another unsubtle glare – before she asked me, "So who is this guy then? Is he like your brother?"

She was also none too impressed with him, it would seem.

"Yes, Sookie," I said, "This is my brother… Eric."

"Well… y'all don't really look alike. That's why I got confused. I wasn't trying to be rude or anything…" She stepped back and spun around to face my child once more, "Nice to meet you, Eric. I'm Ezra's friend, Addy."

Eric's normally impassive countenance donned a harsh scowl as she thrust her hand towards him. He did not want to have to scour the scent of fairy from his skin; I could see it plainly in his eyes. I set my hand on her wrist and gently guided her arm back down, shaking my head 'no.' Her confused expression begged an explanation, and Eric huffed his incredulousness in response – huffy, indeed. I offered a little white lie to appease her.

"He is not too keen on touch."

"Oh, well I guess that's something you've both got in common then," she grumbled, no doubt remembering the numerous attempted post-run hugs I had sidestepped, "I can sort of see the resemblance now. You know, if I squint real hard, and tilt my head to the side like this…"

She mimicked her described gesture, her balance wavering and off-kilter. Sometimes she acted childish, but in fairness she was still a child at fifteen.

"Different fathers," Eric stated, without providing any context to encircle his few words.

"Huh?"

She shot up from her hunched and catawampus position to gape at my son, like a fish does – she had often said. Sookie was a fan of idioms, and she suffered my misunderstandings, explaining them to me – sometimes with pictures. I cared nothing for understanding the human bastardizations of speech and its usage, but I never asked her to stop. Her faulty assumption that I had yet to assimilate into American culture kept her from asking why I was so out of touch and out of time.

It was not as if I could tell her I simply had spent very little time around humans… until recently.

"You said we do not look alike. We have different fathers – that is why, Sookie."

Eric was pleased with himself. He had not lied to her; we did have different makers, which one could suggest were the vampire equivalency of fathers and mothers. However, I did not believe this was the true source of his amusement. He had also blatantly ignored her request he call her 'Addy,' and he was reveling in the grimace she produced in response. I did not need our bond to tell me so; he was grinning ear to ear, like a jackal. His behavior surprised me. Eric normally did not let go or act out, as the humans would say. Sure, he would flirt with, and subsequently bed, willing young women, but I had never seen him act so… childish.

Sookie brought out the best in me, but perhaps the worst in my son and vice versa.

"Well Andrew," she renamed Eric, further igniting his ire, and this time the chuckle most certainly erupted from my throat, "it's been real, not real pleasant, but real just the same. Sorry to bother your private conversation. I'll see you around, Ezra, preferably once your brother goes out of town again."

She finger quoted "out of town" and I furrowed my brow – no one had mentioned Eric's usual whereabouts. Such a bewildering human; would I ever discover her many secrets? And then without additional ceremony, her words hanging in the air, she sprinted away, her blonde ponytail whipping through the air as she vanished from line of my sight. I could only hope she would head straight home, away from potential monsters lurking in the shadows, knowing it was more likely she would not.

I spied a small smile curl at the corners of my son's lips as his eyes trailed Sookie until she disappeared.

I could tell that he disliked her passionately. She had challenged him and teased him, made him act like a child and feel like a fool. He wanted to frighten the sass out of her before ripping her apart, piece by piece.

His devilish smirk combined with the impish glint in his eye was a dead giveaway.

Inherently, I understood how he could abhor her so easily, allow his ego to drive his desires. After all, in his eyes, she was just some lowly part-fairy human that I deigned to interact with, who had overstepped her bounds and insulted him. He did not know she was important to me, the catalyst for my emotional shift. He did not know she was destined to be my daughter, one of our blood – that I would sooner die than let him hurt her.

I had to set him straight – once and for all.

"That girl is off limits to you. You may find her aggravating, but I usually find her delightful. Tonight… you both acted strangely, and I did not care for it one bit. Until she is turned, I cannot command her against such foolishness… You on the other hand…"

Eric stilled as I issued a maker's command, something I had not done in hundreds of years. A maker's power over his progeny was absolute, and whether or not Eric liked it, magics would now force him to comply with my wishes that he never harm Sookie, that he protect her as he would me.

"Fader, will she be your mate – when she is of age? Will you bond with her before you turn her?"

Eric whispered, consternation ringing through our bond. I shook my head to indicate my fervent and sincere disagreement.

"No, my son. She is not my soulmate, nor am I hers. I would say she is more kindred to me, like the sister to my soul."

I did not miss the momentary swell of relief that flooded through our bond, or the brief flash of hope in Eric's eyes, at my words. Clearly, the line between love and hate had been much finer than I was initially led to believe.