Disclaimer: Plot, and original characters, belong to myself and Holly P. Everything else belongs to Charlaine Harris.
Author's note- Hello all! I have been absent for a while, and I apologize for that. I am busy working on a couple of projects right now and this is one of them. The other is an original fiction that is posted on . I'd like you all to please know and understand that this story will not be a quick work. This is something I've been dabbling with during my times of being stuck, or frustrated with my original fiction, She Will be Loved. I plan to post chapters as I come up with them and have no plan for how long this story will be. I really hope you like it and I hope that you will please be patient with any of my writing. Y'all have been so kind throughout my absence and I greatly appreciate it. I hope this will tide you over as I continue to work on my other projects! Thank you all so much!- Much Love, Sarah
01. Night Moves
He was hungry.
Shifting in his chair, his long legs straightened and he stood. He made his way out of the small office to the main floor of the popular vampire bar, Fangtasia. As he passed a stern looking woman at the main door he uttered, "I'm going out."
That's all. No other parting words. He didn't owe her any explanations for his sudden departure, even if he had planned on being there all night. After a barely perceptible nod from the woman, he whisked away into the woods. He didn't know where he was going, he just knew he wanted to be away from the bar.
"Bye, y'all, see ya tomorrow."
He stopped.
Another voice, a male voice, said something about driving safe. "I will," came the first voice.
This voice intrigued him. He breezed away in the direction the voices had come from and found himself across the road from one of the few places he loathed being around. Fucking Bellefleur's. Why had he not been paying attention to his surroundings as he ran?
With the silence of a panther hunting its prey, he moved closer. He kept to the darkness of the trees as he peered through an opening in the leaves. Across the road, a somewhat meaty, dark skinned man was getting into his beat up Honda Civic as he spoke to a young woman with sun-kissed skin and auburn hair.
She was the tiniest woman he had ever seen. Well, tiniest human woman in any case. She was dressed in the white tee with Bellefleur's logo and black shorts that was the uniform of the little bar and grill and a pair of black NIKEs. Her dark red hair was pulled back into a practical ponytail exposing her beautiful neck. Oh, now she is tempting, he thought.
Then, she laughed.
She had the most amazing laugh he had ever heard. It was like music and was so full of life. He decided then and there to spare her. She waved at the man as he drove off and reached into her purse. She appeared to be looking for something and was having trouble finding it. And no wonder. That bag is nearly as big as she is! "Come on, I know you're in here," she muttered. "Aha! There you are… Now, let go of the…"
It seemed as though whatever she had been searching for was caught on something. Amused by her actions, the blonde inched closer. Then, she yanked so hard that her hand lost grip and something metal, her keys, flashed in the light and headed for the ground.
The woman practically jumped out of her skin. "Shi… Jesus effing…" She looked up at him with narrowed, angry eyes. "Didn't anyone teach you it's not polite to sneak up on people?!"
Her attitude amused him. She was so tiny, the top of her head barely reached the bottom of his chest, but she was feisty. There weren't many people, humans or otherwise, that had the guts to stare him down the way she was doing just then. He could see the strength in her, the fighter. Yet, there was also undeniable beauty. He was fascinated.
"You dropped these," he said by way of apology, holding out her keys.
She graciously took them from him. Her eyes slowly widened to their natural openness as she fingered the key to her car. "Thank you," she offered. "I'm sorry about snapping at you just now. It's just… You startled me, is all."
"My apologies," he intoned. "Please, allow me to make it up to you."
Her full lips parted in a smile. "That's really nice of you, but it's not necessary," she stated.
A lascivious smile spread across his face. "Oh, I insist."
"Keep dreaming, buddy," the little pixie-sized woman laughed. "Besides, I don't know you."
He switched tactics as smoothly as he changed his clothes. "I am Eric Northman," he introduced himself, inclining his head politely.
The young woman held out her hand. "Genevieve Mason."
Eric took her delicate hand in his and kissed it. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Mason… And may I add, what lovely skin you have." His voice was low and seductive, something that usually drew people in.
Genevieve tugged her hand away. "Who are you? The Big Bad Wolf?"
"No, I'm not a wolf," Eric chuckled darkly.
Genevieve leaned against her car and looked him over. He was clearly a vampire. She had known it from the moment he had suddenly appeared, snatching her keys up before they had hit the ground. If she hadn't figured it out then, the pale skin, the confidence, and the overtly blatant sexual advances certainly would have clued her in. "No, no, you're a vampire." A really sexy one at that, she thought, taking in the black wife beater and black slacks he was wearing. She wasn't sure why, but she thought the look suited him.
Eric nodded. "I am."
She bit her lip and fidgeted with her keys. "Are you going to eat me?"
He cocked his head, brows arched up, thinking. Was he going to eat her? He could, for he was certainly hungry. Wasn't that why he had left Fangtasia in the first place? To find something to eat? He asked himself again, Am I going to eat her? "No," the tall blonde stated. "No, eating you would be a waste of beauty."
Genevieve laughed. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Northman."
"I was not seeking to flatter you. I was merely stating a fact."
"Not to sound rude, or call you a liar, but… you look like you're about to make a meal out of me."
He was in front of her in a flash. "Oh, I could make a very pleasurable meal out of you, Miss Mason," he said seductively, leaning in close and inhaling deeply.
Her skin warmed at the various implications and her pulse quickened. She knew he would hear it and made no effort to hide her reaction. Why should she? He was a handsome man. More than handsome if truth be told. "Ahem, I'd be very grateful and appreciative if you didn't."
Eric stepped back a couple of paces and gave her a small bow. "Then, seeing as I am quite hungry, I should take my leave of you. Good evening, Miss Mason, it truly was a pleasure."
Genevieve stood straight and took a step toward him. "Wait! Will I see you again?"
A perfect blonde brow rose in question. "Would you like to?"
That was a good question. Did she want to see him again? "Yes," she said after a moment.
"Then you will."
Before she could say anything else, he was gone. She let out a shaky breath and fanned herself. Whew, talk about hot, she thought. She chuckled as she shook her head and got into her car.
Eric watched from the cover of the trees as she drove off. Then, deciding to forego hunting in favor of drinking from his decanter of blood at home, he took to the sky. He was home in a matter of moments.
He entered the large mansion style home he had created for himself decades before vampires had come out of the coffin. Well, he had glamored the owners into signing it over to him before he had eaten them anyway. The fact remained; it was his house.
He went to the refrigerator and took out his decanter of A-, pouring some into one of the crystal tumblers that held a permanent place on the counter. He downed the glass cold, grimacing slightly at the frigidity, but delighting in the satisfaction of hunger it brought. After washing the glass, he took a mug from the cabinet and poured himself some more blood. This time, he warmed it in the microwave.
He closed his eyes as he took the first sip of the heated blood and sighed with a soft moan. "That's better," he uttered aloud to the emptiness.
As he put the decanter back in the fridge, he made a mental note to have someone restock the various vegetables and fruits that his housemate kept stored there. He picked up a glass of greenish liquid and sniffed at the contents. He quickly put it back, disgusted. "Five years and I haven't learned my lesson," he muttered.
Taking his mug with him, Eric went in search of the young vegetarian that kept him on his toes. He found her upstairs in a spare bedroom that he'd had converted into a library sitting cross legged on the floor, hunched over a book. Her long dark hair was hanging loose, forming a curtain and hiding her face from his current view. He leaned against the doorframe and watched her as he savored his liquid meal.
"Of all the things you could be entertaining yourself with in this house, you choose books?" he teased, finally alerting her to his presence.
The young woman looked up and stuck her tongue out at him before giving him a bright smile. "I prefer books," she stated, closing the one she had been reading and getting to her feet.
She placed the book back on the shelf she'd taken it from and went to him. Standing straight, Eric opened his arms and she stepped into them, accepting his embrace. The top of her head was flush with his shoulder, so he didn't have to exert much effort to rest his cheek there. She squeezed him around his middle, tightening her hug. "I've missed you, too," Eric whispered into her hair.
"You told me one night, you were gone two."
Eric released her and lifted her chin at her mildly pouty tone. "I know, and I apologize if I worried you, but I had business that needed tending to," he expressed.
Suddenly, the girl's eyes, so much like his own, narrowed and her hands flew to his cheeks, holding his head still as she scrutinized him. "Something's different," she noted, letting him go. "You're in a good mood."
His laughter echoed through the house, causing her to smile. "As it happens, my sweet little sister, I am."
"Why?" she questioned as he turned and headed down the hall.
He held up a finger, his back still to her, and crooked it, silently telling her to follow him. She obeyed instantly. When she caught up to him, she leapt onto his back, giggling when he raised his arms just enough for her to wrap her legs around his waist without breaking stride, or spilling his mug of blood. It was the silly little things like this that she would do that reminded him of the fact that despite her intelligence and appearance, she was still quite young.
His mind thought back to the fateful night five years ago when he had first encountered the enchanting sibling on his back.
Eric sat in his office at Fangtasia reading over the progress reports for the processing plant he was having built for the company he and Pam had started after the Hep-V pandemic. The product was much like the now discontinued TruBlood that had been contaminated except instead of it being simply a lifeline for vampires, it also contained the cure for Hep-V by way of Sarah Newlin's synthesized blood. That was the plan anyway. The plant building was on schedule and according to the reports from the team of top scientists working around the clock, the synthezation of Mrs. Newlin's blood was nearly complete. This news was better than he had hoped after only a few months.
Suddenly, a black gloved hand appeared on his desk. He was out of his chair in a flash, fangs out, ready to pounce on the intruder. The same gloved hand that had been on his desk was now stretched toward him in supplication. The figure removed it's head covering with it's free hand. Long, black hair tumbled free and blue eyes stared at him from the face of a girl that looked to be no older than eleven or twelve.
Eric was so shocked he retracted his fangs. The arch of her brow, the shape and color of her eyes, the straight slope of her nose, the slightly fuller bottom lip, even her height and build. It was as though he was looking at a reflection of himself. "What kind of magic is this?!" he growled, eyes glaring at the tiny, strangely dressed figure before him.
From her pocket, she produced a golden bracelet with three blood red stones dangling from it. "Jag menar dig ingen skada, broder."
The bracelet had belonged to his vampire sister, Nora. He had given it to her himself on the first anniversary of her being turned. Very cautiously, he stepped around his desk toward the girl and knelt down so that they were almost eye to eye. "Hey, Eric, Dylan needs your approval for a VIP comp."
Eric whirled to his feet, growling at the interrupting employee. He scribbled his name on the clipboard and instructed that he was not to be disturbed again for any reason. He then slammed the door in the man's face and turned his attention back to the girl.
"How did you come to possess that bracelet?" he asked her, kneeling again.
The girl pocketed the bracelet and removed one of her gloves. "Hand, please," she requested politely.
He hesitated for a moment wondering if he should give her his hand. She can be trusted, he thought. Nora's bracelet is proof of this.
Looking at him and holding out her glove-free hand expectantly, the girl repeated her soft demand. This time, he placed his large hand around her smaller one. She swept her other hand over his eyes, causing him to close them automatically.
At first, everything was black but then, memories he kept buried came to the forefront of his mind. Memories that he had never shared with anyone. His human family; his parents, his wife, his children, his brothers and sisters. The night he'd been turned. A strange night he had long since forgotten in which he had briefly fought with another, much older vampire and stumbled into some sort of pod.
Then the images changed and Eric realized he was not seeing his memories exactly, but hers. A sterile looking room. Doctors, or scientists looking down, cutting, examining. Escaping. Nora. Getting a real name. Receiving the bracelet from Nora. Realizing Nora was dead. His face.
Eric gasped as his eyes fluttered open. If he hadn't believed her when she showed him the bracelet, he certainly believed her now. He knelt there, just staring at her, wondering how someone so tiny could have endured such horrors. He was a fully grown man and he knew there was only so much pain he could withstand. He made a silent vow then and there that no harm would ever befall this child, Estelle Winthrop, ever again.
He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. "How would you like to come live with me, Estelle?" he inquired.
Estelle's grin mirrored his own as she nodded.
The vampire had brought the little human-plus home with him that very night. He had given Pam instructions by phone that he would be working from home for the following week and that he was not to be disturbed. He was grateful that despite having released her some time before, she was still fiercely loyal to him. She did not question his orders… much.
Estelle had immediately taken to the house, settling on the rather spacious attic as her bedroom. Eric spared no expense making sure his new found sister had everything her heart desired. Only the best would do for the sweetling. When she had discovered a love of cooking, he had even remodeled the kitchen for her.
"Eric?" Estelle's chin was resting on his shoulder and her voice was scarcely a whisper.
Eric turned his head just a fraction. "Hmm?"
"Why are you in a good mood?"
He finished his blood before answering, "I met a very interesting woman tonight."
He knew she was smiling without having to look at her. "Oh, she's pretty, Brother!"
With a snarl, Eric broke her hold on him and pulled her in front of him, setting her feet firmly on the floor. "You should not have done that," he chided her through carefully suppressed anger.
Estelle folded her arms and stared him down. "I was curious about the woman who put you in such a good mood!" she exclaimed.
"Then ask! Don't just rummage through my head as though I'm one of your books."
She hung her head and shuffled a foot. "I'm sorry," she said, cutting her eyes up at him. "I only saw what she looks like. I promise!"
Eric's blue eyes searched her face, though he knew he would find no lie there. It was the one thing she was completely incapable of, lying. He sighed. "Swear to me that you will never do it again unless I've told you otherwise."
She lifted her head and looked him full in the face. "I swear."
As a sign of forgiveness, he kissed her forehead. "Come on, what do you say to a moonlight swim?"
"All right," Estelle agreed, "but only if you're properly clothed!" She took his hand and showed him her memory of the last time they had gone swimming. He had been naked. "Gross!"
Me again... I'd like to thank you for reading this little ditty! I'd also like to give a special shout out to my dear friend, Holly, who has helped me emensely! Holly, thank you so very much for allowing me the use of Estelle, and for helping me create this story! Your friendship has been such a blessing to me and I can't thank you enough! For all you readers out there, I hope you liked our story. Please feel free to leave a review. I welcome constructive criticism and praise alike! -Much love, Sarah
