A/N: Thanks to Mrskroy, rachel olsen-williams, and every single reader.

"Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass.

It's about learning to dance in the rain."

xXxXxXxXx Present Day xXxXxXxXx

"What. Crawled. Up. My. Ass."

Eric parroted back at me, each punctuated word sharpened like a barb – in an obvious attempt to verbally cut me straight to the bone.

"Well, I will tell you WHAT CRAWLED UP MY ASS, Sookie – YOU!"

I. Could've. Killed. Him.

Was Drew fucking kidding me right now?!

First, he'd dismissed me like an errant child and called me Princess – the spat-out moniker resurfacing all kinds of bad memories – and now he was blaming me for all of his mercurial bullshit? Oh, hell no. I couldn't freaking believe it. Carefully pulling up my mental walls to block out Ezra, I let my telepathic shields slip down to pluck out whatever ridiculous notion Eric had swirling in his mind as he stomped around like a freaking man-child.

Throwing a temper tantrum.

That's what he was doing right now – like a fussing toddler.

'Perhaps this is what fairies really do; they fuck with people's minds. Begging me to turn her, forcing me to worry about her, fucking feigning final death only to pop back into my life again. What if this has just been a game to her, merely a joke at my expense?'

Okay, seriously – this was almost too much to handle.

What a fucking load of horse-pucky!

"Wait… W-what?"

I snorted impolitely – he really thought that I'd almost died twice to tease him – practically busting a gut as a serious case of the giggles overtook me momentarily.

That is, before red hot anger settled in.

Asshat son of a fucker.

"THAT'S what you fucking think of me?! How the freakin' hell did you come to that asinine conclusion, Drew?!"

Calm down, Addy.

Breathe.

"You know what?" I asked rhetorically, my whole form twitching with magics, although my tone was composed and cool, "I'm not doing this shit, not on my birthday."

Giving into the swell of power, I disappeared before his very eyes.

That'd show him.

Pop.

Someone else is out there.

I thought worriedly, as I paused at the back of the red-bricked house, the metal handle of the screen door pressed tightly in my hand.

It was just a gut feeling – nothing more.

But still I couldn't shake it.

Throwing my shields down as far as they'd go, pushing back the scattered thoughts belonging to my party guests, I tried to cast my mental net out past the edge of the property.

In truth, I'd never managed to stretch my telepathy over an acre away.

So I wasn't surprised at all that my efforts were in vain.

Maybe I'm wrong.

But I didn't think so, and even though my instincts hadn't been properly honed – my telepathy a crutch I'd used my entire life – I trusted them all the same.

You need Eric.

Some – perhaps desperate – part of me whispered passionately.

Ugh. There was always Ezra or Jax – hell Thalia, the freaking badass was inside – but I couldn't quite shake that nagging voice inside me that kept saying – no, you should go get Eric. Traitor. Giving in, despite every other rationale part of me screaming I do otherwise, I released the door's knob, closed my eyes, and focused hard on harnessing my fairy magics – just like Desmond had taught me.

Fine, I'd give him one more chance to pull his head out of his ass.

But that was it – after that, I was done playing nice.

Pop.

"Please come back to the house."

I pretty much begged Eric after materializing in front of him, tamping down the urge to smile as a look of shock flashed across his face.

Oh yeah, no one had actually told him yet that I was still part-fae.

"I promise I'll stop crawling up your ass," I offered, trying to bring levity to the heaviness introduced by our earlier exchange, "…cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye…at least for the night."

I raised my hands up and displayed my palms open, in surrender.

Like I was approaching a slobbering rabid dog.

When Eric fisted his hands at his side and launched into the air, I wondered why I'd even bothered. Because you like him, you stupid girl – my mind hissed at me – you liked him even before Pam took you aside tonight to explain she's not with him. It was true. I'd liked him for a while – probably a little too much. Instead of sleeping today, like I sometimes did, I'd gone on a cleaning rampage, letting my nervous energy take the wheel and direct me to and fro. Hell, I'd practically run myself ragged before Jax had taken it upon himself to steal my cleaning supplies.

Had I not been running on fumes, I'd have really read him the riot act.

But instead he got off easy since, once I'd stopped flitting about, I'd succumbed to fatigue almost instantly.

Inopportunely immersed in my own internal pity party – my attention transfixed and foolishly singular – I failed to notice anyone else was around until they were quite literally on top of me. Not he or she, but they – as in two someone's. I didn't know who – or what – they were, but there really wasn't time to worry about that right now. Their sharp claws ripped at my clothes and skin from all angles, while hot poker-like teeth gnashed and tore at my flesh, leaving trails of fire in their wake. What the hell was happening? Every nerve searing and screaming, I struggled to fight back – fangs down and thrashing as wildly as my stiff body would allow, finding it impossible to hone in and summon the magics I'd need to pop away.

You need Eric… you… need… Eric.

My scattered thoughts chanted on repeat.

Their cadence slowing as I became overwhelmed by blinding pain.

Squeezing my eyes shut, bloody tears brimming at the corners, I howled "ERI-C!" as loudly as I could, not knowing if he'd even hear me or where the fuck he'd gone too. 'Are you just going to stand here sniveling like a little bitch waiting for someone else to save you, or are you gonna fight back like a goddamn fucking Harding?' – my adoptive father Henry's reproaching voice echoed mercilessly in my head, bouncing off the walls like a wrecking ball, impelling me – like he always had – to be stronger, to push harder like our namesake sorta suggested.

He may have been a narcissistic monster, but not everything he'd taught me had been worthless.

Some lessons he'd imparted were incredibly useful – like this one.

Finally finding purchase in one of the two's skin, my fingernails sinking through the female's tanned flesh like a warm knife into butter, I swung her body into my male attacker, throwing him several yards away. Refusing to lose focus – or possibly the advantage I'd just gained – I ignored the booming quake just off to my right. Please let that be Eric. Teeth clacking at each failure to connect, the woman twisted and flailed in my tenuous grasp, pushing then pulling against me as we continued to scrap and scrape at one another. Then suddenly a mouthwateringly exquisite scent burst into the air around me, tickling my nose – and the sharp pain coursing through my veins gave way to voracious and consuming hunger.

Overwhelming and intolerable thirst.

"AHHHH!"

She wailed deafeningly, as I tore my fangs into her neck, sucking harshly at the wound to imbibe mouthful after mouthful of the manna-like liquid.

She. Tasted. Heavenly.

As my appetite receded, my delectable meal bursting into light-refracting glittery dust – oh well – all thoughts of assailants and assaults flew from my mind.

Attack? Schmattack.

I'm on fucking Cloud Nine.

Grinning – surely like a loon – as the taste of sugary rich nectar danced across my coated tongue, I stalked towards Eric, eyeing the man up and down and drinking him in like a tall glass of iced water on a swelteringly hot summer night. One not unlike this one. While temperature barely registered to me, I could appreciate that a late June night in Texas was nothing if not oppressively warm. I shook off the errant, and absolutely useless, thought as I closed the space between us, pleased to see that instead of disappearing into the sky or otherwise – like he had before – Eric was stock-still as if he'd been cast into stone.

Someone should chisel a replica of this Adonis into marble – I couldn't help but think to myself.

Then people could admire him, day or night.

I tamped down the urge to pant, whistle, and generally a-ooga as I mopped the puddle that was my metaphorical-self off of the dusty ground. Continuing to confidently sway my hips – swish swish – I sauntered towards him until we were separated by inches at most. Had he always smelled this enticing? Eau de Eric wafted between us, filling my nostrils, as I inhaled deeply – a heady, intoxicating experience, if there ever was one. While suppressing a full body shudder, resisting the urge to press and rub myself against his delectable – too temptingly lickable – body, I brushed my fingers over the soft fabric of his taut dress pants, lingering only briefly before unzipping the maddening enclosure and sinking my hand into the opening.

"Hmmmm…" I hummed appreciatively – somebody preferred to go commando, it seemed – as I palmed his rock-hard and impressively large cock, "Happy fucking birthday to me…"

The contented purr that rumbled through Eric's partially exposed chest went straight to my tingling core, stoking the crackling embers of desire within me.

I'd never felt anything like this before – so out of control, and abandoned by my rational self.

Did drinking blood straight from the source always feel this good?

Because if so, I'd really been missing out.

My lax and drifting thoughts rejoined the here and now as Eric stiffened beneath my explorative touch. Unfortunately, not in the good way. Without a word of protest, his face etched in a furrowed scowl, he cupped his cool hand over mine, extricating it from its new and happy home. Lip jutted out in a playful pout, I whimpered my disappointment, smiling wickedly and reaching out to take grasp of his throbbing member again just as a roar of sound erupted from close by.

Bursting the shimmering bubble world that had encapsulated the two of us.

Boooooo.

"WHAT THE FUCK," Ezra thundered, an accusing finger pointed squarely in my direction, "ARE YOU DOING!?"

I couldn't understand for the life of me why he was asking me that.

Wasn't it obvious?

"Celebrating my birthday, silly."

I teased lightly, my lopsided grin fleetingly twisting into an uneasy frown – as the previously dormant ember of pain within me threatened to spark into a searing blaze.

"Eric was just giving me my present."

One I'd really like to get back to playing with.

Although I'd have bet good money that sexy fun time was probably over.

"What happened, broder?"

Ezra asked worriedly, his eyes flitting up and down Eric's form and then mine, finally taking in our sorry state of dress – which was tattered and torn.

Whooshing to my side in less than seconds – my enhanced sight still barely catching more than a hazy blur – Ezra dropped down to the crackling ground to sit cross-legged before pulling me bridal style into his lap. Dust swept up around us in a tornado-like swirl, his quick movements disturbing the dry dirt of our under-watered yard. Coughing, I tucked my head against the curve of Ezra's neck, seeking respite from the cloudy air. The rumble rolling through Eric's chest was audible – surely not just to me – but my maker ignored it, focusing instead on peeling away the jagged strips of purple chiffon to examine my stomach and legs.

Oh yeah, I'd forgotten both were still wet with blood.

My own, unfortunately.

Obviously displeased by what he saw, Ezra's fangs popped down with a click before he crunched a gaping hole into his wrist. With a gentle and doting touch, he began to rub his blood over my still-healing wounds, causing me to wince and hiss in pain – Eric's growl still somehow louder than mine in the background. As my head lolled back in utter defeat, I finally called it. Time of death, exactly twelve seconds ago – the mood had officially been killed. Sexy time was definitely over now. Double boo. Faintly and in my periphery – exhaustion hitting me like a freight train as my body knitted itself back together – I listened to Eric explaining at length what had happened. Honestly I was only catching a few stray words here and there... ambushed... fairies... silver-teeth…

Hudda whadda now?

What did it matter what color their teeth were?

As my eyes struggled to stay open – an increasingly impossible feat – I considered asking the two of them to explain that one to me – really I did.

But instead I fell asleep.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Wandering down a crooked path, the soles of my naked feet conforming to the shape of the bumpy cobbles, I stopped momentarily and peered up at the moonlit sky – at the beaming light I hoped was the North Star. Swinging my head down, and then side to side, I absorbed my dark green surroundings, the woods I knew without confirmation were part and parcel to the Louisiana swamps not far behind Eric's Shreveport home. It all felt wrong, but looked familiar and right, so I continued to meander down the stone-paved walk that somehow I had never noticed before.

Perhaps I'd always been too busy running.

Or maybe…

I shook my head violently, expelling the unsettling thought that somehow reality had slipped from my grasp – that what felt so true was little more than a hallucination, or a dream. But it couldn't be. Could it? Yes, you stupid girl. I banished the unbidden and chastising admonishment with the same fervor as the last, and increased my andante speed to one more allegro as if I could outrun it. Enjoying the whipping cool winds that kissed down the expanse of my unclothed arms – stringed music humming lightly in my ears – I closed my eyes, submitting to my senses and instincts, using both to guide me forward – and hopefully away from lurking predators and potential harm.

Both always seemed to be nipping at my heels recently…

Ever since I became vampire.

Arms outstretched from my sides, my wingspan full and on display, I brushed my hands against dewy leaves and branches as I passed by, reveling in their waxy texture and sharp edges – the small bite comforting. I had been missing this, this freedom to just run like a wild child amongst the debris of nature, to act as if I didn't have a care in the world. The feeling was foreign – but pleasantly enjoyable – and I never ever wanted it to end.

And then surreptitiously it did.

As dreams usually do.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Blinking away the haze of sleep, my eyes slowly fluttered open – their lengthy lashes tickling the dewy apples of my cheeks – to meet another pair gazing deeply, if not also inquiringly, into mine.

"You okay, kid?"

Jax asked concernedly, raking a hand through his short light brown hair before rising from his kneeled position on the floor to stand next to me.

I nodded unequivocally, as I slipped my hands underneath me to prop myself up to a seated position – visibly surprised to feel the smooth velvet fabric of my duvet comforter below me.

Okay, so that told me where I was.

But not much else.

"How long was I out?"

I croaked hoarsely, the vestiges of an uneasy slumber still lodged in my throat, avoiding the questions I really wanted to ask Jax – like how did I end up in my room, and where the hell was my dress?

Because it'd only taken a split second to realize I wasn't wearing it anymore.

The torn cloth had left little to the imagination, but still…

Thumbing at the hem of the oversized tee, I tamped down impulse to groan, or possibly cry – oh God, who saw me naked? Nervous anticipation bubbled and spit in my gut while I tried to hold the squirming question securely on my tongue. I'd been working on openness and honesty, but there were still some secrets tucked away in the vault of my mind – ones I never planned on releasing.

First, and foremost, that I could read minds, but a close second was my scars.

There were so many.

"Umm…" Jax paused, taking a moment to recollect, while I stifled the desire to grab the thought from his mind myself – I really was trying to be better about that, "I don't know, fifteen minutes ago or so."

"Who undressed me?"

I spit out quickly, unable to hold the burning inquiry at bay any longer – the altogether too real fear of someone seeing me stripped down and naked, in more ways than one, practically suffocating me.

Breathe, Addy – in and out – you used to do it all the time.

It was amazing to think of all the things I'd done as a human that now felt fairly foreign to me.

"Me. But I kept my eyes closed the whole time – I swear."

Jax admitted sheepishly, wringing his hands like he expected me to implode – an embarrassed blush creeping all the way up his neck to the tips of his ears.

Dropping my shields momentarily to confirm what I already knew to be true – can't be too careful – I let out a heavy sigh of relief seconds before Jax did the same. Just like that the small amount of tension that had hung momentarily between us dissipated, like it'd been banished from the room. Things were always so easy with Jax.

"Thanks."

I offered politely, scooching over a bit to give him room to sit down on my queen-sized bed with me, which he did without hesitation.

"You missed one hell of a pissing contest while you down for the count," Jax laughed lightly, teasing a smile from my lips, "Seriously, kid. It almost came to blows when I suggested taking your dress off. I thought Eric was about to toss me out the window before Godric intervened."

Oh, I would've paid good money to see that.

Not Jax almost getting thrown through a window, but everything else for sure.

"Everybody's still here, kid. If you want to get back to celebrating your eighteenth birthday party and stuff, I mean."

"Yeah I do."

I said almost immediately, surprising myself with how much I meant it despite feeling inexplicably rattled and confused by the earlier attack – but especially because of the incident with Eric.

I wasn't exactly jumping and down to see him again after what I'd done.

But there was also a snowball's chance in hell that I'd be able to avoid him for rest of eternity.

Time to put my big girl panties on and face the music – I thought to myself once Jax exited the room. I took a quick shower to rinse away the dry and crackling remnants of blood leftover from the attack before heading over to my closet to do yet another costume change. Just any old thing wasn't going to cut it if I was gonna strut back out there with my head held high. The night hadn't gone to plan so far, but it was time to get it back on track.

It was my freaking birthday, dammit.

And come hell or high water I was gonna enjoy it.

"What's up with this music? Y'all throwin' Adds a party, or a wake?"

I heard Alcide enthuse seconds before I flounced into the Great Room with a pep in my step and a hitch in my giddy-up – my demeanor intentionally over the top and vibrant.

Fake it 'til you make it – Henry had always drilled into myself and my sister, Ginny.

Right now that lesson seemed more than apropos.

Dressed in a pair of low-rise dark wash jeans and a not quite see-through gray tank top, I felt more than comfortable in my own skin and still somewhat dressy all the same. Mission accomplished. I needed all the armor, and the self-confidence, I could get right now.

Only one came to me naturally.

So I did my best considering the circumstances.

"Alcide!"

I squealed gleefully like a high school girl, embracing him in a tight hug much to the open chagrin of my vampire guests – the smell of dog something they'd all pretty much lamented at one time or another.

Well, tough cookies – as far as I was concerned.

He was my friend, and I was sure as hell gonna address him as such.

"Adds, I got my 'Pod on me," Alcide whispered in my ear, his arms wrapped around me like mine were around him, "If you'll lemme plug it in, we can turn this semi-snooze fest into a real rager."

Releasing him from my hold, I rolled my eyes – I liked my classical music and he knew it – but also nodded my head affirmatively, happy to let him steer the party in a less somber direction.

A change of tune would probably do the group some good.

Plus, it'd be a distraction – one I sorely needed.

As Alcide fiddled with the music, I settled down next to Jax on the couch, who was weirdly engaged in a heated debate with Thalia regarding weaponry and its evolution over the ages. I'd barely heard her speak before – since previously she'd found verbal communication abhorrent to some degree – and now she was talking at length as if it was no big deal. Sure, her speech was still stilted and her word choice curt, but she was operating outside her usual comfort zone, which made me feel inexplicably hopeful – and stupidly proud.

Thalia was proving that, given the right circumstances, old dogs really could learn new tricks.

That wonders never ceased.

As the melodic stylings of Imagine Dragons' Thunder filled the spacious room, its architectural acoustics enriching and enhancing the semi-synthesized tune, I let the song wash over and envelop me in its dulcet tones and bassist beats. Music had always been my preferred method of escapism. While some people read or busied their hands with hobbies, I listened and allowed myself to disappear inside symphonic compositions, meditating like a Buddhist monk – sailing away to my happy place.

I'd never given much attention to modern music, having developed a strong – bordering on abhorrent – distaste for teenybopper pop in particular.

But when Alcide introduced me to alternative rock, I'd taken to it like a fish to water.

Still seated on the plush beige couch, it wasn't long before I found myself rhythmically tapping and swaying to the beat, lost in the metronomic refrain. My duties as hostess were all but forgotten – not that anyone seemed to mind. Thank goodness. Earlier, I'd been more than a little worried that my rag-tag bunch of friends and family might superbly awkward up this night with all their supernatural issues.

But nope!

They were all getting along just fine.

"Dance with me."

Eric ordered plaintively, snapping me out of my closed-eyed reverie to spy his large hand thrust out towards me as clanging bells signaled the start of Lana Del Ray's Video Games.

Slowly tilting my head up, I discovered his expression to be one of displeasure – his face painted with blatant and open irritation – which honestly was more than a little bit off-putting. What was Drew's freaking deal right now? It wasn't as if I'd made him come over here. Hell, if he'd decided to avoid me like the plague after whole groping him thing, I'd have totally accepted it.

But this was something else altogether, and completely out of the blue.

Honestly, it had me all kinds of on edge.

"Umm…"

I stalled uncomfortably, not quite knowing how to react, or what to say.

"She'd love to."

Jax replied eagerly – traitor – breaking from his chat with Thalia to playfully elbow me in the side, earning himself a quick jab in retort – which caused him to gasp as the air surged from his lungs.

Whoops.

I thought sarcastically, before he began to cough and sputter next to me – a twinge of guilt wriggling a soft sorry from me as Jax struggled to catch his breath.

Ugh, I hadn't meant to poke him that hard.

Even months later, my newfound vampire strength was still taking some getting used to.

"Fine," I conceded flatly, overtly sighing my resignation before I placed my hand into Eric's outstretched one, noting that his palm twitched slightly as his cool skin pressed against mine, "One dance, Drew."

Despite how it might've looked, I hadn't given in just because Jax had rudely intervened on my behalf – this decision was all me.

But my meddlesome friend was definitely going to pay for that offense later.

After leading me over to the unfurnished and open-aired space – the size of our Great Room having been enhanced by the absorption of an unneeded fourth bedroom – Eric rethreaded his fingers through mine and then snaked his other arm about my waist. Outside of life or death situations, it was probably the closest I'd ever been to anyone other than Ginny – short hugs with friends not included – in my entire life. Paige and Henry, my apparently adoptive parents – our lack of relation still at times unreal to me – had never been too keen on physical displays of affection, or really tenderness, at all.

So the sensation of Eric's arm wrapped around me was novel, and exceedingly foreign.

But not unpleasantly so.

I wasn't sure how many eyes – if any – were on the two of us as I followed Eric's lead, allowing him to move and spin me across the empty hardwoods. Honestly, I was losing myself, once again, but this time in the fluidity of our motions, letting the music take corporeal form through me and my feet. Although I'd never studied – dance not really being my thing – I could tell we were waltzing, our sides pressed against one another as we traced circular patterns into the light sheen of dust bespeckling the floor.

Damn, I knew I'd forgotten to clean something earlier.

Yep, even with everything else going on, that was apparently where my mind was wandering off to.

Cursing myself internally for not staying in the now and present, I decided to be a bit bold and rested my cheek against Eric's muscled and cool chest, reveling in how hard yet smooth it was. He'd removed his shredded buttoned shirt sometime while I was out cold, which left his upper body covered by only a thin cotton layer – a measly barrier at best. Lucky me. As I stifled the urge to inhale his heady scent – a singular and musky aroma of damp earth blended with hints of the salty sea – I felt Eric's fingers grasp the swell of my hip almost possessively before slowly trailing upwards.

Interesting – I thought excitedly, making zero moves to discourage him, or his roaming hand.

I desperately wanted to know where it was going.

As his fingertips slipped underneath the hem of my shirt to brush against the waistband of my denim pants, I tamped down the overwhelming urge to moan appreciatively. Instead, I bit my lip so hard it bled – thank goodness for spontaneous healing. Every twitch of his explorative digits – their nonlinear path never straying far from the edge of my jeans – sent thunderbolts of electricity tearing through my newly ignited form. The intensity continued to increase as he, almost reverently, circled the lowest knobs of my spine, teasing me within an inch of my sanity – albeit maybe not on purpose.

Amazingly enough my bare feet managed to keep up with his, moving in time to the hypnotic beat.

Despite the growing weakness in my knees.

Laying his calloused palm flat against my hipbone, Eric deftly ceased his easy ministrations, drawing our waltz to a close, and dipped me backwards – the finale-like flourish coinciding perfectly with the song's end. Hearing light clapping and the next track's opening chords distantly in the background, I peered up at Eric under my fluttering lashes, surprised to see pitch black pupils staring at me. Gosh I wish he'd kiss me. Still holding me sideways, he dragged his free thumb gently across my bottom lip – wiping away the slight smear of blood still stained there from when I pierced it with my teeth.

"It's not poisonous anymore – my blood, I mean. I'm not saying you should... I just thought you'd wanna know…"

I rambled nervously, as Eric righted me to my feet and glared at me incredulously – my admission otherwise obviated by the unfamiliar song blaring through the room's mounted speakers.

"Did Godric tell you about that?"

He ground out through gritted teeth, his dilated eyes still fixated on the browning red stain – his form stiff and stock-still like rigor mortis had settled in, while his thoughts were nearly ear-piercing.

'He fucking tells her everything!'

Honestly, Eric had never seemed scary to me before – not even when he was in full Sheriff mode.

But right now I was shaking in my metaphorical boots a little bit.

"No, Pam did."

I admitted sheepishly, my usually strong voice wavering and moderately fearful – like maybe I'd done something wrong by outing her bad behavior to her maker.

I dunno why – that woman and I were never gonna be besties.

At most, we'd maybe end up as frenemies.

Gripping his other hand around my forearm, Eric pulled me into the adjoining kitchen space – and away from prying eyes – his own narrowed and back to stormy blue. The moment had passed. He released me as he turned towards the sink, sighing almost wistfully before twisting the faucet's knob and rinsing his hands below the water's down-pouring torrent. Before setting it back into its previous position, he wiped his damp hands dry with the crocheted towel adorning the stove's door.

My daytime hobbies had at one time including the art of needlework, but I'd since abandoned the craft.

It'd been an unsatisfyingly complete waste of time.

"This is why you ran away," Eric stated plainly, like pieces of a puzzle were finally snapping together in his head, "Not because Pam injured you but because you were upset."

He spit out the last word like he found the notion particularly abhorrent and loathsome.

In fairness to him, it probably was.

Internally, I debated about whether or not to correct Eric's misconstrued version of the night in question. I hadn't left Louisiana because I was upset Pam was mean to me– as he'd so mildly put it. Sure, her harsh words may have catalyzed my hasty retreat, but she'd never been the cause. I'd actually left to hand myself over to the Texas King, so I could protect my loved ones from him…

And from me.

Of course, no one – not even Ezra – knew that yet.

"No, I was gonna give myself to King Whiskey like he wanted."

I mumbled quickly, refusing to relapse under the guise of leaving the past in the past – because then everything I'd lied about would fall under that heading.

It'd be the easy way out.

The very route I was trying to avoid taking.

'She had planned to sacrifice herself to Jameson?! Is she fucking kidding?!' Eric's thoughts screamed again, so loudly I couldn't help but hear them – his face impassive and blank – as his curled hands cracked the discolored porcelain of the age-worn sink, 'Thank the fucking Gods, Thalia buried her!'

I mean, I'd almost suffocated to death because of it.

But… agreed.

"Why would you do that?"

Eric asked matter-of-factly after several minutes had passed, unclenching his hand from the now fractured basin to rake it through his short blond hair.

"Because… people were getting hurt… I wasn't worth all that trouble."

I choked out sullenly, tears brimming in my eyes as an infinite stream of memories suddenly filled my mind – Henry's harsh insults stinging me like an angry swarming cloud of bees.

One day I'd be rid of the insecurities he'd fostered in me, I was sure of it.

But sadly not today.

Eric remained silent as he crossed the few kitchen tiles between us and enveloped me in his arms. Shhhing softly in between my hiccupping sniffles – unbidden tears slipping down my cheeks as the emotional floodgates opened within me – he finger-painted soothing formless shapes onto the canvas of my back. Pressing myself against his upper body, staining his white cotton undershirt red, I realized that I hadn't openly wept in front of another person since maybe… ever.

According to Henry, Hardings weren't allowed to cry.

It made us unlovable, and downright ugly – the second, a cardinal sin.

"Do not ever say such a thing about yourself, Addy," Eric whispered quietly, tucking my bowed head under his chiseled chin – drawing us even closer still, "You are everything to… Godric. He would gladly lay down his life, if it meant you would be safe."

"I know that now – I believe it even; I just didn't then."

I replied truthfully, disengaging from Eric's comforting embrace – that shirt is definitely ruined – to head over to the kitchen sink.

After grabbing the hanging dishtowel, I wetted it under the faucet and began to wipe the drying blood off my face – worst part of being a vampire, hands-down. Checking my reflection every so often in the window, I scrubbed away the physical manifestation of my self-doubt and emotional pain, surprised – as I watched the pink-hued water swirl down the drain – by how much freer I felt. Like that maybe one day I really would be able to forget all the nonsense Henry had drilled into me.

I couldn't help but smile at that.

Little by little, I was becoming whole again.

"You are so different now – happier. Is it your companionship with the demon that has changed you?"

Eric asked inquisitively, brushing an errant strand of hair off of my forehead with his thumb before tucking it behind my ear – his eyes lingering on the pebbled scars on my neck.

The ones he gave me.

He had a really weird thing about them – what was that about?

"Jax? Oh ummm… not really," I answered seconds later, snapping back to the conversation at hand, "I mean, he's a good friend, but his empathic powers don't work on me – if that's what you're asking."

"Is he your friend or your roommate, Addy?"

Eric bit out crossly – geez, this guy and his mood swings – putting extra emphasis on each of the choices he'd given me like they were mutually exclusive – but they weren't, not necessarily.

Oh shit, I just got it!

Suddenly, I understood exactly what had gotten Eric all riled up earlier.

"Adds, there ya are!" Alcide bellowed excitedly as he stepped into the kitchen, interrupting me before I could put Eric's concerns to rest, "Ya wanna open your presents now? We're all missing ya something fierce. Ya shouldn't let this guy," he motioned at Eric, who pretty much growled in response, "monopolize all your time, birthday girl."

"Sure, Alcide! Be right there!"

I agreed in my most cheerful voice, feigning excitement since I didn't really wanna rejoin the party – I'd been enjoying talking with Eric.

It'd easily been our longest conversation to date.

With a nod, Alcide disappeared back into the other room.

So I had to get this out quickly, since I hadn't bought myself a lot of time.

"Friends," I answered firmly as I gazed up into Eric's ocean blue eyes, watching as they darkened slightly – in the good way this time, "Jax and I have only ever… Just. Been. Friends. I mean, how gross would that be anyways, he's like my brother…"

Then in the blink of an eye, my back was against the sink, hands were everywhere, and Eric's mouth was on mine.

Happy fucking birthday to me, indeed.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Merry Day of Human Birth, Dotter."

Ezra effused gleefully – no one daring to correct his wild choice of phrase – as he handed me a meticulously wrapped box topped with a red-ribboned bow.

Presentation-wise it was so gorgeous I could barely stand to disturb it.

But Ezra was looking at me so expectantly – eyes alight with excitement – and that was the point, so that I just had to.

"New running shoes! Thank you!"

I squealed happily, throwing my arms about my maker, who openly hugged and squeezed me back – oh my gosh, this was exciting!

I hadn't gone out for a run since Louisiana.

I'd really been missing it.

Even though I'd only opened two other gifts – both neatly stacked on the glass-topped coffee table in front of me – so far Ezra's was my favorite. Jax had gotten me some movies I'd missed in the theatre, ones I'd really wanted to see before I turned vampire, while Alcide had given me a gift card to buy more music along with a couple Twenty-one Pilots and Fall-out Boy CDs. All three had been incredibly thoughtful, but Ezra's present felt infinitely more personal to me since we'd actually met while pounding pavement at White Rock Lake years ago.

Wow, I can't believe I've known him for half a decade.

Although as immortals, we'd have possibly hundreds of lifetimes still to come – God willing.

Otherwise, I'd assumed that was it, as far as presents went at least. Pam? Well, she wasn't here by choice so I doubted she'd felt obligated to fulfill that particular celebratory expectation. And Thalia? That woman marched to the beat of her own drum, which I pictured as a style akin to jazz, or something… indescribably unique and singular. So if she'd even considered buying me a present my heart would probably stop – for good this time.

Then there was Eric.

Mmmm… Eric.

Just thinking about him – THAT KISS – had me itching to do it again. My body had never really tingled with desire before, but when Eric's hand flew into my hair and his knee pressed between my legs, I nearly combusted into flames – a swell of pleasure snaking through me and scorching every nerve raw. It felt indescribable, and weirdly life-affirming – like a veritable dam inside me cracked and broke, letting all my pent up frustrations take center stage and demand resolution. Boom, crash – STARS…

Even the live blood hadn't been so good.

In fact, it hadn't even come close.

"Sookie?"

"Hmm?"

I hummed distractedly, more than aware that I'd completely zoned out, tracing my fingertips across my lips as I remembered the soft but urgent way Eric's mouth had dominated mine.

"Sookie."

Ezra admonished lightly, obviously irritated he'd been forced to call my name a second time – his annoyance apparent not just in our bond, but in his chiding tone.

Opening eyes I hadn't realized until just now were closed, I peered around me, taking in not only the space but everyone's expectant expressions. Did I miss something? I mean, I knew that I most likely had – I could read a room – but truly I was at a loss here. So I sat there on the beige couch with my hands folded in my lap and shrugged my shoulders confusedly, the universal gesture for "what?", hoping that someone – anyone – would take pity on the birthday girl, and throw me a freaking bone.

Was that too much to ask?

No, the answer thankfully was no.

"Eric got you a present, kid. Open it!"

Jax enthused puckishly – his grin matching his encouragement – bumping his shoulder into mine before pointing at a haphazardly tissued blob placed next to my opened gifts on the table.

As it turned out, I had seen it there.

But to me it'd looked like nothing more than discarded trash.

Hands weirdly trembling, so lightly I was sure only the other vampires could see, I lifted the balloon-weight looking pouch and placed in onto my jeaned lap. Picking at the tight and unbowed knot, I tried to untie the red crimped curling ribbon, finding it almost aggravatingly impossible. Fumbling to gain purchase in the loop, I tamped down the urge to huff out my frustration, until suddenly with one swift tug the threaded piece gave way.

Eureka!

Why I hadn't just ripped into it, I really couldn't say.

As the thin paper sides fell open enough for me to see the contents, I gasped audibly – spying the familiar emblem – and my hands flew up to cover my surely gaping expression. He didn't… did he? – my eyes flitted to Eric's mirthful blues before landing back onto the object in my lap. No, he wouldn't have done something like this – there was no way. It had to be some kind of cruel trick, or at best a mistake.

Even if it wasn't either of those things, I definitely couldn't accept it.

It was much too generous… among other things.

"C'mon, Adds. What is it? We wanna see!"

Alcide prodded expectantly, uprighting from his slouched position against the fireplace mantle to try to peer over the tissue's edge – my hands almost reflexively covering the item from view.

"Yeah, kid. You don't gotta play up the suspense! We're interested, we swear!"

Jax joked teasingly, his hands playfully darting towards mine – forcing me to swat them away.

"Yes, Sookie. Show us." Ezra requested firmly, rising from his seated position on the loveseat to practically hover over me, "What is it? What has your brother gifted you?"

Pam yawned audibly – earning herself a reproachful glare from Thalia – as she fastidiously picked at the now-chipped polish on her nails – obviously wanting to be anywhere else but here.

In this awkward moment, I seconded that sentiment.

Everyone's attentions were starting to make me feel a little claustrophobic.

"It is a key – a car key to be precise – to a Porsche Cayman, which will be delivered tomorrow night."

Eric interceded nonchalantly – as his arm lightly brushed against mine – casually sipping from his goblet of warmed blood with a small scowl painted about his countenance.

The same one he always wore.

Had I ever actually seen him smile? – for the life of me, I couldn't remember.

Lifting my cupped hand, I threaded my pointer finger through the fob's ring, holding up the key and moving it around for everyone to see. No sense hiding it; cat's already outta the bag anyways. Even though I heard a couple exclamations of excitement – from Jax and Alcide obviously – I kept my eyes fixed squarely on Ezra's blank expression, looking for even the minutest of twitches or tics – our bond having gone almost unnervingly silent.

Evidently, he was not pleased by this turn of events.

Although those who didn't know him very well would've missed it for sure.

The party festivities dwindled down and ended pretty soon after I opened my presents.

But also, of course, because the sun was less than an hour from the horizon.

Likely sensing the thick and swirling tension – probably without the use of his empathetic abilities – Jax had offered to drive into Dallas with Alcide, to stay the night elsewhere. "Nothing's gonna get resolved tonight if I'm still within earshot, kid," he'd explained as he threw a few things into his backpack, "And y'all have got a lot to discuss, I'm sure. Hell, you almost died tonight, kid! We can't pretend that didn't happen." With his words – the truth of them – still resting heavy on my mind, Jax'd kissed my forehead, and given my hand a light squeeze, before Alcide had wrapped me up in a big ol' bear hug – both in their own way wishing me luck, and also a good night.

Leaving just us vampires out at the house – alone, and miles away from civilization.

Now, my eighteenth birthday party was truly over.

A/N: EPOV next chapter, including his version of the kiss, if anyone felt bereft.