Chapter 2

Maria felt disgusting. She had made a deal with a vampire, a fucking vampire! It made her skin crawl and her fingers ache with the need to act, but she couldn't. She couldn't do anything because she gave her word. Honor was still something she held on to, despite how much trouble it generally caused.

But how else was she supposed to handle the situation? How else would she be able to stand on her own two feet again? The truth was, making a deal with the Viking Northman was the lesser of two evils. If she hadn't, she would remain in the box for decades and she knew it. From what little she knew about Northman, the fact that he was ruthlessly honest and uncaring was always constant. She had no doubt, from the moment she looked into his steely grey eyes, that he'd leave her in that box until she starved to death.

Maria didn't know if Anthony and his men were aware she could hear them or not, but she heard them talk about Northman more than once. Anthony kept her in his bedroom at the foot of her bed like some kind of sick hope chest. As a result, she heard about the Sheriff of District Five often. Anthony used to speak of him with agitation-laced fear. She didn't know the specifics of it, but evidently Anthony liked to borrow money and had trouble paying it back. His sums grew to the hundreds-of-thousands-level (interest was, apparently, a bitch) and could no longer pay it. When it reached that point and his patience with Maria had grown transparently thin, he chose to get rid of her. All words ever spoken about Eric Northman by Anthony or any other male were about his attitude. The women, however, spoke openly about his looks, about how handsome and God-like he was. They weren't wrong.

When her eyes first fell on him, Maria finally saw what those women were talking about. Eric Northman was a striking man from his height to his demeanor and everything in between. He was slender from head to toe, but there was no mistaking the muscle there, muscle amplified a thousand fold by his vampiric nature, and while nice, it wasn't what held her attention. It was his eyes shielded by long, ashen-blonde hair that fell to his chin. They were fathomless and intense, blue with a slightly grey tone. They reminded Maria of the ocean during a storm, the same dark, chaotic blue of a tempest that threatened to overturn a ship. They held power and age, and unmistakable pain. Eyes always were windows, and Maria didn't want to know what could hurt a man like him so deeply it scarred his very soul.

She didn't know if he would be worse than Anthony, or better, but she knew everything –at minimum- would be the same, and that wasn't an option. Countless months in a dark box with breathing holes so small a panic attack would make her black out, a literal crust of bread and glass of water a day, and only being taken out once a day for the bathroom were things she never wanted to experience again. So, if she had to make a bargain, to sell her life to a vampire for her freedom, she'd do it. At least with Northman there was an end date.

But she still didn't like him, and doubted heavily that she ever would.

She heard him and his blond companion speaking to the others through the wooden door that separated them. The sound of Anthony's voice made Maria's stomach turn and bile rise in her throat. She was glad he and the others never fed her their blood. In truth, she was fairly certain they didn't want her to have the strength and took to feeding from an IV line in her arm when she proved herself too dangerous. None of them dared get close enough to bite. That was how Anthony lost the first three of his men.

Maria approached the door separating her from the main belly of the club. Her fingers grazed the painted wood. She felt Northman's blood coursing through her, felt the strength and power behind it. At nothing more than a drop, she knew she was as close to completely healthy as she could be. It gave her enough courage to think she might be able to pull it off.

The knife she stole from the kitchen supplies on her way to the back door felt light in her hand, ready. She tightened her grip and took in a deep, steadying breath. Five vampires. There were five vampires on the other side of the door that she was allowed to kill, and while the thought of going after Northman and the blonde had crossed her mind, Maria wasn't so stupid, or naïve. She knew they'd kill her in an instant.

"Tell me how you came across the woman." She heard Eric say.

"I was hunting in a bar in New Orleans." Anthony said. "When I smelled her, I knew I had to try her, but she was stubborn and wouldn't leave."

"No," Maria heard the blonde lady scoff derisively. "You mean she didn't find you charming?"

Maria smiled to herself. She liked the blonde lady as much as she assumed she could. Then again, Maria always liked honesty and sarcasm.

When Anthony spoke again, his voice was a little tighter than before.

"I drugged her drink." He said. "I managed to get her out of the bar, but she began to rebound faster than I thought she would, so I put her in my trunk and took her home. I drugged her again, fed, but she fought back. She was too delicious to waste, so I tied her up, but every time I tried to feed, she'd get more and more violent. Eventually, I found a way to keep her subdued."

"With numerous chains and no food." Eric said.

"I couldn't handle her," Anthony said, sounding thoroughly defeated which made Maria proud. "But I know you can."

Something in Maria told her Northman was likely basking in the complement which annoyed her.

"But, I have to warn you, Sheriff, she's-"

Before he could tell Northman anything Maria didn't want him to know, she burst through the door a bit too aggressively. She heard the wooden frame splinter and saw it rest at an odd angle out of the corner of her eye. She'd broken it, but that was an issue for later.

Shocked eyes turned to her while the blonde lady and Northman seemed nothing but annoyed.

"That was a bit excessive." Eric said, but Maria didn't hear him fully.

The moment her eyes landed on Anthony, she was filled with all of the memories, all of the torture and feedings. She thought of every time he let his friends chew on her and touch her. She thought of the humiliation through the years, and it gave her focus.

The insanity inside her was easily reflected across her face as she met eyes with the vampire who'd been the cause of all of her pain.

"I'm going to kill you now, Anthony." She told him in a voice that reflected the same.

"Oh, shit," he mumbled.

He knew the danger he was in. Good.

Maria ran for him as fast as she could, fueled by Northman's blood and her rage. She passed one of his men and didn't hesitate to swipe her butcher's knife across his throat on her way. There was a splash and a wet thwack that echoed her behind her. Apparently, she'd struck hard enough to decapitate him.

Red blood, body parts, and screams filled Fangtasia's main room as she fought any and every one. She had a single focus: death.

~!~

Eric and Pam stood back watching. Eric couldn't take his eyes off the scene. It was enchanting and surprising. His captive fought with a speed and dexterity that he hadn't seen in a human before. She was vicious and brutal, and her opponents were stupid. Either they'd forgotten they were vampires or her wrath frightened them so much that the thought of running never crossed their minds. They should have run, even if it did make them look like cowards.

It took minutes for it to come to an end, and when it did, there seemed to be almost nothing that wasn't covered with blood and viscera, including the prisoner. She stood in the center of it all, breathing heavily from the exertion. She had "body" in her hair that weighed it down, blood that twisted it into tendrils. Her clothing was slick with red, her shirt clinging to her body, and crimson fluid dripping from her pointed fingernails.

"You made a mess." Eric finally said as he looked over the damage left in her wake.

Her eyes shot to him, breaking her out of whatever blood-craze she'd been in a moment before. Eric felt a little jolt in his chest, a strange sensation when she met his gaze. Her sweet little, child-like face was stripped with blood, too. Ribbons of it cut across her perfect, ivory complexion making her look all the madder. He liked it.

"Clean it up." He ordered simply.

She flinched. "But, the sun's coming."

"It's going to be very difficult for me not to kill you if you keep whining like that." he replied coldly.

"I wasn't whining." she growled through her teeth. "The sun's coming up and I have to get the last four before they go to ground. May I?"

He tilted his head slightly as a smirk touched his lips. What a curious little woman. She clearly hated vampires and hated him for taking her, but she asked permission to leave.

Eric answered easily. "Be back by sun down."

"She needs to be back before that." Pam interjected. "This place is a mess."

"Pam's right." he nodded.

"Oh, no. It'll be cleaned and fixed before the club opens." The prisoner said eagerly. It was the first form of life she'd truly showed since arriving, beyond her smirks and taunts when Eric had first ungagged her. "I'll take care of it."

"Why?" Pam asked. She couldn't help it. She was distrustful.

"I gave him my word." she answered as though it were obvious.

"Well," Eric couldn't keep the arrogant smile from his lips. The whole situation brought it out, the strangeness of it all. "At the moment you owe me two and a half years."

He saw a flicker of annoyance and anger flash in her eyes again, a disappointed rage that made him laugh to himself. For some reason, he enjoyed that she hated their deal so much.

"I know. I'll be back and repair the destruction long before dark."

She headed for the door and nearly made it before Eric appeared in her path. He stared down at her, a woman who barely reached his shoulders, but gave off the power of someone twice her size. It made him smirk again, an increasingly common action since she arrived.

Without a word, he rolled up his sleeve and bit into his wrist. He offered it to her. As before, she eyed the blood with a scowl. He wasn't surprised.

"Drink it, or I'll put you in the box again." He told her plainly.

She glared angrily at him through long, thick black lashes. He liked that, too.

Still brimming with silent defiance, she wrapped the fingers of her small hand around the fabric covered portion of his arm and drank the blood before the wound healed. When it did, she shoved it away just because she could. Stepping around him, she slammed her palm into the door and shoved it violently open. Eric chuckled.

"Well?" Pam asked as he returned to her.

"What?"

"Don't give me that look, Eric." she huffed, rolling her eyes at his childish smirk. "What do you plan on doing with her?"

"Whatever I like."

"And during the day? What makes you so sure she'll return?"

"She's tasted my blood. I can find her no matter where she runs. If she doesn't return of her own free will, I'll force her and I won't be as kind as Anthony."

"Judging by what's left, I don't think he was." she sighed, avoiding the blood with her new shoes as she made her way toward the broken door. "Is she to be your new toy since the waitress doesn't want anything to do with you?"

"Miss Stackhouse is a mild interest."

Pam eyed him skeptically. Until that moment, he had been damn near obsessed with the country girl, so hearing him say something like that was a bit more shocking than he realized. On some small level, he thought he was being honest. Perhaps he was? Or, more likely and what Pam believed, he was downplaying his obsession heavily.

The truth was, Eric did think she was a mild interest because he refused to believe anyone, especially someone as seemingly ordinary as Sookie Stackhouse, held any power over him at all.

The girl in the box would be his new toy, just as Pam said. He was curious about her, not just because of the way she tasted, but also because she was so wonderfully violent. Eric could always appreciate a bit of bloodshed and she did it with a surprising amount of grace, all things considered. Even better was that beautiful rage and defiance in her eyes. She was brave, he had to admit, albeit foolish if she thought he'd be as easy a pushover as Anthony had been.

With her gone and a renewed amount of his blood in her body, Eric and Pam retired for the coming day. Whether the girl returned the following night or not didn't matter. It'd be better for her if she did willingly, but he'd be able to find her regardless.