A/N: Look at me all writing and stuff! Chapter 5 is off to the beta, so here's chapter 3. :D I'll post 4 later this week, too. And whatever YnB I get written. Kinda starting to worry about those kids... Thanks to ilovemysteries, as always, for being swell.
Chapter 3
Eric Northman was just walking through the door of The Viper Room when he felt Pam's final death. He staggered, and nearly fell to one knee. The woman on his arm, whatever her name was, stumbled and fell, pulling over another woman walking past. Eric didn't notice. He ran from the club and took to the sky, barely escaping notice from a couple of winos further down Sunset Boulevard.
Of course, it was only a few days past the summer solstice, and was already nearly midnight. He could go back to his friend William's and book a flight for tomorrow evening. It was too late to push through the paperwork for shipping a body tomorrow morning. He could fly himself and go to ground for the day partway.
The thought of sitting around and waiting until sunset tomorrow set his teeth on edge. He kept on flying toward Shreveport. He was losing time going East across time zones, of course, and had to stop for the day in New Mexico.
He made it back to Shreveport by 2:30 the next night, only 3 and a half hours before dawn. Where had she been? He went to his safehouse to make phone calls. Only then did it occur to him that he could have made the calls from William's and flown in tonight. He would have saved time and wouldn't be windblown and bug-splattered and covered in grave dirt.
First he checked his own voicemail and emails. He called her friends. He called her acquaintances. He called some of her old pets, who all started to cry because they missed her. He even called the Queen of Minnesota! Nothing.
He got himself cleaned up and died for the day. He would go to her home tomorrow.
The next evening, there were several messages on his cell phone when he rose. The first was from The New Orleans Police Department. They needed to reach Pam, and had somehow gotten his number as a contact. It was in relation to a missing girl at an underground rave at a warehouse Pam owned. He knew that warehouse would be nothing but trouble. The second call was from Lt Col Flood, the Pack Master of Shreveport's Long Tooth pack. The third call was from him as well, as was the fourth. Eric called Flood back.
"Flood. It is Eric."
"Look, Sheriff. A couple of my pack members who are staying in New Orleans went to a rave on Sunday night. The girl they were with went away with a vampire and never came back. They are worried sick about her, and so am I. From their description, the vampire was Pam. I want to know what in the fuck is going on, and where that little girl is. She's only seventeen years old. As a matter of fact, Sunday was her seventeenth birthday. They are ready to go to war over this, and I don't want them getting hurt."
"A Were? Not really Pam's type. No offense."
"No, the girl wasn't a Were, but she was living with Alcide Herveaux, Jackson's kid, Maria-Star Cooper, and Jake Purifoy from the New Orleans pack."
"I… I felt Pam's final death Sunday night."
"Jesus Christ, Eric. I'm so sorry. The little girl… From what I understand, she couldn't hurt a fly. She ran from an abusive home in Bon Temps last year and has been with Alcide and Maria-Star ever since. They're homeless. Living out of a van. The kids are trying to make it as musicians, and the little girl panhandles and reads fortunes on Bourbon Street. They're young and stupid, but happy as little clams. Or they were before this. They're beside themselves, Eric. What the fuck happened?"
"I don't know, but I guess I'm going to New Orleans tonight to find out."
Eric quickly packed a bag and threw it into the Corvette's trunk and took off. He made it to the warehouse in just over three hours.
The warehouse had been searched and cleared as a crime scene. The girl was missing, but she was already a runaway, and therefore not much of a priority for the NOPD. Eric called them back anyway, and told them that he would be available for the rest of the night at the warehouse if they needed to speak to him.
Eric walked through every inch of the building, checking each room for anything out of place, any odd smells, anything that would lead him to what in the fuck happened on Sunday night. He saved the safe room Pam had installed inside for last. He walked in, closed his eyes, and inhaled.
Pam's scent was strongest here. He also smelled Weres, two males and a female. Obviously the ones Flood mentioned. And a very sweet, delectable scent. If this was the girl, Eric understood why she was the centre of a Vampire-Were mystery.
It was nearing sunrise. Where else would Pam go? If she knew the sweet-smelling girl lived with Weres, she would take her somewhere else. Weres are protective and would not like their girl going off with a vampire. They would interrupt. Tomorrow night, he would check his NOLA safehouses. And, of course, the hotel suite. Knowing Pam, she would have gone for the penthouse.
He did collapse to one knee, then, his eyes bloody with tears. His sassy sarcastic beautiful Pam was gone. He got back on both feet and roared. He smashed a coffee table, a chair, and a bookcase. And then he was ashamed of himself and curled up in her bed. She must have slept here recently, as the pillow smelled like her. He hugged it to his chest and cried until dawn carried him away.
The next evening at sunset, there were NOPD officers sniffing around outside when he left the warehouse. He stopped to speak to them. He had no real information to give them; he couldn't mention his bond with Pam, or the Pack, or really any information that he knew. But he offered to help in any way he could, and they eventually let him go to continue his search.
There was an orange Volkswagen van in the parking lot as well. Two overgrown young Weres were shuffling from foot to foot, waiting to talk to him. Good. It looked like Flood warned them not to go off half cocked. "Which one of you is Herveaux?"
"I am."
"What can you tell me about what happened?"
Alcide looked like he wanted to say something aggressive, but then he took a deep breath and said, "Sookie was dancing by herself. We were off trying to book some gigs. A pretty little blonde vamp started dancing with her, and Sookie took her hand and went down a hallway. That's all we know. We didn't see it, but we heard from other people what happened, and we smelled it was a vamp. Right Jake?"
"Yeah. We sniffed around the bedroom in there, and followed their trail to the parking lot. That's where it ends, pretty much. We talked to someone who saw them getting into a minivan close to midnight."
"Can you describe the girl?"
"Yeah, she's blonde with blue eyes. Super cute. Stacked. Maybe five foot five."
Alcide added, "A lot of people on the streets call her Sunshine. I started calling her that the day we picked her up, and it sort of stuck. If you find her, you'll get it."
Eric raised his eyebrow.
Jake replied, "She smells fucking incredible. It's like she's so sweet she even smells that way. Like sunshine and honey, almost."
"And she lights up a room."
"Flood said there were three of you. Where is the third?"
Alcide said, "Maria-Star is taking it real hard. She's blaming herself, which is stupid. All three of us ditched Sookie on the dance floor. We dropped Maria-Star off with some friends. She didn't need to come here for this."
"And you're sure this Sookie wouldn't have done something to Pam and taken off?"
"No way. Sookie is really sweet and gentle, and doesn't know a thing about vampires. She knows about Weres, and that's it. She's hardly a Buffy. And she doesn't have anywhere else to go. We're her family now."
"How can I reach you? I assume you'll want updates. As will I if you hear from her."
"We share a prepaid cell, in case we get any gigs. Here's the number." Jake handed him a cheap business card with Alcide Herveaux And The Werewolves printed on it.
"Catchy name."
Alcide said, "Yeah, the old man wasn't so thrilled. Pack Master Flood even less so. It's not like anyone's gonna believe us, though. Nobody thought The Beatles were bugs, right?"
"I suppose not." Eric called their number with his, so they would have his number stored. He got in his Corvette and drove to the hotel.
When he tossed his keys to the valet, he said, "Mr. Northman! Is Ms. Ravenscroft still in residence? Her car has been here since Sunday night."
"I am not sure. I've just made it to town. Thank you."
Well, shit. It looked like he was at the right place, at least. He got into the elevator and put the key card in the slot and chose the button for the penthouse.
When he opened the hotel room door, there was a pile of ash just inside, along with his robe and a pair of slacks, her La Perla, her pearls, a pair of kitten heels... His Pam.
He went to the bedroom and sniffed. His fangs ran long in his mouth. "Fairy." Why in the fuck would fairies kill Pam? It made no fucking sense. He would need to check the surveillance tapes and call Niall. Find out what in the fuck was going on. He went into the bathroom and saw the bloody washcloth and Pam's bloody shirt on the counter. He sniffed them. Fairy blood. And Pam's. Obviously she had taken the shirt off herself, washed, and replaced it with the robe. What in the fuck had happened?
He heard a tiny sound, almost a squeak, coming from the shower. Maybe a bare foot or the rubber sole of a shoe sliding on the porcelain?
All of a sudden he felt absolutely terrified. What in the fuck was that? He wasn't scared of a little noise. He threw open the curtain and hissed.
Sitting in the bathtub was the girl, her arms wrapped around her knees. Blonde hair in pigtails. Terrified eyes rimmed in red. Bloody tears on her cheeks. Smelling like sunshine, Fairies, Werewolves, and Pam.
"Fuck."