AN: I'll be real, I shouldn't be uploading this fast because this is the last "already written" chapter I have, but it's my birthday and I'm greedy for comments about the chapter, lol. What can ya do? I think this might actually be my fave chapter so far. Anyway, let me know what you guys think, and as always, enjoy!

Chapter Seven

Eric awoke that night alongside Bill, Pam, and Chow. Sookie was still there waiting for Bill to join her, too afraid to return to Bon Temps alone. If there really was a bull-man running around, he didn't truly blame her. It'd already left her for dead once.

He gave Bill the necessary information for the plane tickets, but cut the added price from ten thousand dollars back down to five. At first Bill protested, but when Eric pointed out that Sookie had shot his "employee" in the chest with the clear intention of killing her, Sookie conceded.

Not long after the pair left, Eric text Girl and told her to return to Fangtasia. She asked if that Sookie girl was still there. When he said she wasn't, Girl agreed to come in.

He sat on his throne, barely paying attention to the work going on around him in preparation for opening the doors. His mind was preoccupied with Girl. The time had come for her to explain exactly what she was. She'd been shot in the chest and it seemed to barely slow her down, a wound that would heavily affect any were. But not her. She went right on spitting and hissing like an animal as she struggled against him to get to Sookie.

That was another issue. He could sense how badly she wanted to maim Sookie, and probably would have if he and Bill hadn't been awakened by the gunshot. Then again, Eric wasn't entirely sure he could blame her. He'd be pissed off if someone shot him, too.

About thirty minutes after texting her to come in, Girl entered Fangtasia. Eric instantly rose to his feet. He raced for her, snatched her up by the arm, and took her into his office before she made it five feet into the building.

He shoved her into the room and slammed the door shut behind him.

"What the hell?" she snapped angrily as she brushed off her shirt.

"What are you?" He asked with a stern voice. Eric slowly approached her, risen to his full, intimidating height as he did. "No more bullshit. Tell me the truth or I'll glamor it out of you."

"Fine," she said angrily. "I'm a thrope, okay?" Eric flinched as she ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. Her voice dropped in volume, taking on a much calmer tone when she spoke again. "I'm a thrope."

Eric stepped back and leaned against his desk with his arms crossed as he thought. He didn't have to guess which kind. Judging by the distinctly feline sounds she'd made earlier, she was a felithrope, a cat hybrid. He might not know which breed of cat specifically, but it didn't truly matter.

Thropes were unique amongst the shifters and weres. They were in a class all their own, actually. While shifters could take the shape of any animal, and weres turned into the natural counterpart to whatever they were, thropes turned into a much bigger version. If what he'd heard was true, thropes –be they felithropes, lycanthropes, ursanthropes, or what-have-you- were truly a supernatural animal.

Take, for example, a lycanthrope versus a werewolf. Werewolves were of average size depending on the species of wolf they turned in to, and were governed by the full moon. In their human form, they had heightened senses and strength, but it was barely more than that of an actual, normal human being.

A lycanthrope, on the other hand, shifted into a much larger wolf, no matter the species. Many stood with their shoulders at four or more feet from the ground, which was a sizable animal. They also weren't dependent on the moon and could remain human no matter the phase. In human form, a lycanthrope's strength and senses surpassed even their werewolf cousins. They could heal, too. It was nowhere near as fast as vampires, but it was just yet another thing weres couldn't do.

Some stories said weres descended from thropes, and that their powers were diluted through the centuries. Other stories say that they were created by magic to specifically hunt faster monsters. There were even stories that said thropes were made specifically as pets from some ancients beings.

Whatever the truth behind the creatures was, thropes had nearly vanished. They were rare enough that, to the best of his knowledge, Eric had never come across one. Until Girl.

His gaze drifted to Girl. She was standing not far from him with her arms crossed as she paced lazily. He could see her discomfort.

"Show me."

Her head snapped up as she looked at him questioningly. "What?"

"Show me." He repeated.

"No!" She was clearly offended. "I'm not some trained monkey who's going to preform tricks."

He kept his stare firmly fixed to her as he thought. There were so many things going on in his mind, ranging from Godric, to Sookie, to Girl, and everything in between. He didn't need the added aggravation of her being something dangerous, but he knew he could use it, too. If, for whatever reason, he needed it, a thrope was a good thing to have in one's back pocket.

"Get behind the bar." He said after a lengthy silence. "You're working tonight."

She stared at him blankly. "Is that it?"

Eric let his cocky attitude shine through and smiled smugly at her. "Unless you want something else?"

She scowled immediately, which made his smile broaden. "I'll be behind the bar." She mumbled as she left the room.

When she was gone, his smirk faded immediately. Bill and Sookie would be landing in Dallas any moment. He knew he should be getting a call within the hour, but he had business to attend to in the meantime. With Girl working at Fangtasia that night, for now, one of the many things on his mind was situated.

Maria was hungry. She wanted to take a break and get something to eat, but Fangtasia was surprisingly busy for a Thursday night. She hadn't been given the chance to leave. There was no real food within the building beyond some bread and peanut butter, and Maria needed more than that to eat. She had a high metabolism and a veracious appetite.

Around one in the morning, Eric charged through the front door with what looked like murderous intent. She noticed him immediately, as well as the stern look on his face. He caught her eye as he headed toward the back room. As he passed, he curled his finger at her, silently beckoning her to follow. She was confused, but after handing off a beer to some human and retrieving the cash, she did.

She found Eric in his office. Apprehension, worry, and a lot of anger radiated off of him. He was out of sorts for the first time since she'd met him. She didn't like it. It made her uncomfortable.

"Pack a bag." He told her as she closed the door.

"For?"

"Dallas." He replied. "You're coming with me. A thrope might be useful."

"But…"

He stopped his pacing and eyed her sternly. His jaw was tight, like he was ready to spout hateful words if she misspoke. He really was wound up.

"Why take me? Wouldn't you prefer Pam, or Chow?" She asked carefully, sure to keep any tone from her question.

Some part of her, no matter how small, assumed he might react more violently than normal now that he knew what she was. There was a distinct possibility. Up until then, any time he'd laid his hands on her, it was appropriate to what he thought she could handle. He never went overboard or actually caused her real pain. Knowing she was a thrope ensured he was well aware she could handle a lot more of his tantrums.

"I need someone who can move in the daylight, which rules out Chow." He told her shortly. "And while I trust Pam infinitely more than I will ever trust you, I need her here to run Fangtasia. Besides, you're expendable. She isn't."

Maria felt a surprising jolt in her chest when he so effortlessly said she was expendable. While she didn't expect to mean much, if anything, to the vampire, hearing that she meant so little actually bothered her.

"Now, go pack a bag. We'll leave in an hour."

Maria gave a small nod and left to do what he asked. She didn't know what was in Dallas, or why she was going, but it didn't stop her. She had no choice.

As she made her way down the hall towards the door that led back into the club, Pam suddenly appeared in her path. Maria's trek stopped immediately. She was put on end seeing the tall blonde smiling at her.

"I couldn't help but overhear that Eric's takin' you to deal with the Fellowship." She said with her typically smooth tone.

"The who?"

Pam let out a small chuckle at Maria's expense. With confidence Maria doubted ever wavered, Pam approached her. Within an instant, Maria felt her body relax and her mind slip. She knew what was happening, but had no power to stop it.

"Now then," Pam said, "You're going to protect him, you hear me?" Maria nodded lazily. "I don't care if he tells you to stay behind while he deals with the Fellowship himself, you sneak around in the shadows if you have to." She leaned forward, minimizing the distance between them even more. "And if by some miracle they get their hands on him, you do everything within your power to get him out. I don't care if it kills you, you protect Eric with your life. Understand?" Maria nodded again. Still beaming with a smile, Pam released the glamor and cooed, "Good. Oh, and best not mention this to him. You know how men are with their precious little egos."

The moment Maria's mind returned to her control, she glared at the woman. "Goddamn it, Pam. Seriously?" she snapped. Pam did nothing more than smile wider and shrug. Maria shook her head. "Fucking vampires."

Stepping around her, Maria was allowed to finally leave Fangtasia while Pam's words echoed in her mind. She was going to end up risking her life for an asshole like Eric Northman, and there was nothing she could do about it. Damn it!

Despite being mid-day, Eric was awake the entire trip. He was awake when they loaded his coffin onto the plane, and he was awake during the flight. He heard everything around him from Girl's heartbeat through the plane engines, to her speaking with people on his behalf. Even now, as his coffin was being taken into the hotel where it was light-tight, he could hear her walking alongside him mere feet away.

He was glad she was there, even though she didn't have a choice in the matter. He'd taken her choice away.

But her loyalty regardless of the situation surprised him. She was vigilant and precise when she spoke to everyone from the airplane's staff, to the people at the hotel. It almost made him regret the way he spoke to her at Fangtasia.

She was right when she said he was a dick, always bouncing between being benign in the way he treated her, to being outright cruel. He didn't know why he did it. Usually, it was because he needed to instill in someone that he was the person in charge, and that he should be obeyed, but Girl never gave him a reason to do so. She always did as he told her. She'd honored their bargain, albeit reluctantly, to the best of her abilities. Without major complaint, she completed every task laid before her, and still he'd poke and prod just to see the wound left behind as though it were a game to him. In many ways, perhaps it was.

He pitied her because he knew he'd never apologize for the way he acted. It wasn't in his personality to do so. What was much more likely was his continuation of treating her poorly. Even if he made a conscious effort not to be overly mean or biting in his comments, it'd happen eventually. He couldn't help it and that knowledge made him sad for her.

When the elevator dinged, Eric felt the coffin moved. He heard the wheels hum over the carpeted hall and the locks on a door click when it was opened.

"Which one's the master suite?" Girl asked the bellhop.

"That one." He replied.

"Then put it in there, near the foot of the bed, please."

"Yes, ma'am."

Eric felt himself being moved into the other room. He grinned a little that she didn't even attempt to take the master suite for herself.

A moment later, he was lifted and set on the floor. He heard the footsteps retreat, then Girl speaking to them once more before the door closed. Eric briefly considered leaving the coffin, but eventually decided against it. It was still daylight and he might as well sleep for the few hours before the sun set. There was no point to rise, especially since he knew Girl would be sleeping, too.

Eric awoke that evening and was immediately greeted by the smell of human food. It smelled like rot to him and made him scowl.

He exited his room and found Girl sitting on the couch with a plate and a room service cart just behind her. It was loaded with items for her to devour, from a few slices of freshly baked bread to veggies, and even some fruit. On her plate, however, was a sliced steak of ridiculous proportions and some mashed potatoes.

"That smells disgusting." He replied as he stepped around the opposite end of the L-shaped sofa. He took a seat furthest from her.

"So does blood." She told him. "To something like me that doesn't drink it, you have no idea how horrible it smells in the volume you people drink it. It's dizzying."

He arched a brow as he surveyed the sheer magnitude of food she'd ordered. "I can imagine." He said. "Do you really plan to eat all of that?"

Girl paused right in the middle of raising her fork to her mouth. Her eyes slowly drifted to the Viking.

"That depends." She said. "Am I going to have time to finish it?"

He thought about it for a moment before nodding. "Finish your meal. I have to go speak with Bill, anyway." He pushed himself to his feet. "Then when I get back, I can eat."

Eric went to his room and changed his shirt before he left the suite without a word to Girl. He thought briefly that he should learn her name, but it left him almost the instant it crossed his mind. There was little reason to bother.

Eric was annoyed more than usual when he returned to his hotel room. Bill was being petty and it was both humorous, and aggravating at the same time. While someone being so childish that they ordered a fifty-dollar TrueBlood without intending to drink it was enough to make him smirk, he was irritated that it was at his expense, and by Bill Compton's hand.

But, it didn't truly matter. Eric Northman could be petty, too, and he'd win.

When he reached his room, he noticed a bellman dragging the room service cart through the door behind him. Eric was slightly annoyed he had to wait for him to pass, but as he did, the vampire spotted something even more interesting. The plates were empty and the mass of food was gone. He arched a brow curiously at the sight. There'd been enough food for two, perhaps three people, and it was gone.

He entered the room shortly after the human and the cart had gone and saw Girl replacing cash into a wallet. He'd given her a few hundred dollars for tips and the like when she had to handle things upon their arrival, otherwise, she'd have had nothing. She glanced up at him.

"Did you truly eat all of that?" He asked.

Her eyes were wide and innocent, glittering with that unnatural green that he now recognized was entirely feline, and shrugged.

"I was hungry." She replied.

A small grin tugged briefly at his lips before vanishing almost instantly. "As am I."

He noticed a wave of agitation sweep across her entire body. It was always an entertaining thing to see. Her jaw would tense, her shoulders slump, and her eyes would struggle not to roll. It never tainted her blood completely, her annoyance with him, but he could taste it. He assumed it was something along the lines of someone placing a lemon wedge in a glass of water: it didn't affect the overall flavor of the water, but one could still tell it was there.

Eric wanted a change, for once.

"And we're going to do things a little differently this time."

Her approach faltered. Girl had only taken a couple of steps before he spoke, and the ominous words he chose to use caused her to stop her advance entirely. He noticed her shift her stance to the side, offering him her body's profile, and in turn, a much smaller target should he –for some reason- attack her. It was adorable, and instinctual, he was sure.

"Come here," He told her.

He could see her weigh her options. There was that internal battle between self-preservation and obligation that lasted only milliseconds. The latter won out in the end. It always did.

Girl closed the remaining distance between them and waited impatiently for whatever he had planned. Eric rolled his sleeve back and bit into his arm. He offered it to her.

"Drink, until I tell you to stop."

Girl flinched. He saw her jaw clench and her hands flex into balled fists. She didn't want to, but it didn't really matter.

"Why?"

"Because I told you to."

She outright scowled at his comment. As Girl remained stationary, still battling with whether or not to comply, his patience was growing thin. Eric was close to forcing her.

"Now," He growled with a deep, resonant voice.

Her eyes darted to his forearm, which was still bleeding. The crimson was bright against his pale, ivory-colored skin, and it was dangerously close to dripping onto the floor. Finally, after what seemed like far too long, Girl reached for him.

Her small, leather-clad hand wrapped around his forearm as she stepped closer. She apprehensively raised it to her lips while bringing her face down to it. She'd had his blood more than once, so her reticence annoyed him. He understood, but it wasn't as though she didn't get a high out of it, and that was the point.

Girl finally brought the bleeding wound to her lips and began to drink, albeit reluctantly. But, within a minute, he felt the shift. It never took long, which was why –when forced to drink his blood- Girl never seemed willing to do so for more than a few seconds. This time, she didn't have a choice. She would drink until he told her otherwise, and that was more than enough for the shift to happen.

Instead of lazily letting his blood fill her mouth, Girl soon began to work for it, drawing it through the bite marks he'd made. Her grip on him tightened just a bit, and her body drew nearer. The more she began to desire it, the greedier and more demanding she became.

As she drank, as Eric stood over her grinning arrogantly at how she desired any part of him, his smile was wiped instantly from his face. Teeth, sharp and pointed, pierced his arm. He bit back a growl at the feeling. She'd bitten him, and did so with teeth more dangerous than he presumed she had. But he didn't stop her. He didn't want to. He liked feeling her sweltering mouth wrapped around any part of him. He liked feeling of her draw the blood from his body. And he liked the emotional shift he sensed in her.

"That's enough." He said roughly five or more minutes after she'd begun.

Girl didn't seem immediately capable, but somehow tore herself away from him. Eric let his skin heal while she took wide steps away. Girl turned her back as she ran her fingers through her hair. She was brimming with energy, fully charged and ready for anything.

When she turned to face him again, she touched her full lips. Her delicate fingers smeared the brilliant red across them and her chin. It was a seductive enough thing to see, but it was the look in her eyes that made him smile. Her pupils had dilated, nearly choking out the bright green, and they were filled with desire: desire to act, to hunt, to fight, to fuck –all of it.

Perfect.

"My turn."

Eric sped across the room and scooped Girl up in an instant. He shoved her against the wall, pinning her in place with his strong body, and bit into her throat. He was borderline vicious when he tore into her, but the sound of pain never left her. Instead, Girl hissed through her teeth, letting in a sharp breath, and then sighed. It was the sigh he wanted to hear.

Her fingers threaded through his hair and held him close, cradling him to her. When he bit down again, or jerked his head a little while he fed, she tugged on his hair and let out another hiss and sigh. The moment was charged, filled with electric yearning and ten different versions of lust.

And he tasted every delicious bit of it. It exploded within him, more so than her already delicious blood did. Tainted by want instead of indifference or agitation, Girl's blood was sweeter and infinitely better. Perhaps morally, drugging her with his blood first just to get the affect he wanted was wrong, maybe even reprehensible, but Eric Northman wasn't much for modern morals.

Things began to stir inside him, wants and desires of his own. He was starting to lose himself in it, and Eric knew that if he didn't draw back soon, he risked killing her like he had the first night.

With a level of difficulty he'd never admit out loud, Eric finally pried his teeth from her neck, but he didn't go far. His forehead rested against the wall just beside her head, his face still half-buried in her hair. Her soft, panting breath was in his ear, and she still clung to him, her fingers tightly gripping his hair. Eric hated that he felt a little out of breath, too.

Part of him wished to remain still for longer than he actually did. He would have been content to, but Eric was unwilling to show her anything. While he doubted she'd notice a meteor striking the hotel in her current state, he didn't want to risk her seeing how dazed her blood had left him.

Before retracting his fangs entirely, Eric pierced his tongue and swept it over the wounds in her throat. He felt her shudder beneath him and heard the softest of whimpers. He grinned.

Eventually, Eric stepped away from her and let Girl stand on her own two feet. The fact that she barely managed the task and had to rely more on the wall for support than anything wasn't lost on him. He stood perhaps ten feet from her, watching her closely.

Girl's head remained down for a moment or two longer, sheets of nearly-black hair covering her face before she finally pressed her back to the wall and looked at him. Her cheeks were pink, a shade that had trickled down to her chest. She was flustered, very much so. That was a first.

No one spoke until Girl let a single, exhausted-sounding word leave her still-parted lips.

"Fuck," she mumbled as her head once again fell against the wall. She looked tired as she stared at the ceiling, something that made Eric grin, but not as much as the reply coursing through his head.

"If that's what you want." He replied.

Girl's head snapped to him. Her eyes were wide in shock and the most beautiful shade of red took her cheeks. She was still too drugged on blood to have the same mastery over herself she generally did, which meant that his comment finally garnered the reaction he'd always hoped for. Perhaps it was a bit childish, but he didn't care.

When his smile broadened and a chuckle left his lips, her eyes narrowed angrily. Girl pushed herself off the wall and stood as strongly and surely as she could.

"Asshole," She hissed under her breath before disappearing into her side of the suite. She slammed the door behind her, hard, and a moment later Eric heard the sound of running water.

His smile didn't fade as he too retired to his room. The cocky, arrogant side of him would forever cherish those few moments because he'd finally broken down some of the walls that surrounded Girl. It was a small victory, but victory nonetheless. The only thing left was to make her feel those things without his blood coursing through her system. That would be the real win, to make a woman who genuinely seemed to hate him fall at his feet.

It'd be delicious.