Chapter 17: Neon Angels on the Road to Ruin
"What the fuck are you wearing?" Pam's eyes scanned her head to toe the second she stepped into Fangtasia. The door hadn't even closed behind Olivia yet and the vampire's opinion of her outfit was formed. Judging by how the blonde vampire dressed, Liv wasn't sure if she should take it as a compliment or not. She was wearing an emerald silk button-up shirt tucked into an ivory tulle skirt, pink heels and a matching pink bag.
"I was aiming for Sex in the City,"
"Sure, if that city is Albuquerque."
Wow, okay, now that was just plain hurtful. Olivia was still on a credit card freeze while she was financially recovering from her house purchases, so all the clothes she acquired were from big department store clearance racks. She actually thought this outfit was kind of cute, but it was nothing like anything she wore before. She always stuck to neutrals, but all she could find here were the bright colored items that no one in Shreveport, Louisiana wanted. It was the leftovers of the leftovers.
"You can always give me my clothes back," you cunt.
Olivia approached Pam who was seated on a brand new lounging couch. In fact, most of the furniture had changed. The booths that lined the walls were gone now, but the renovations weren't done yet. VIP rooms and a whole mezzanine for Eric's new throne still had to go up.
"Shit I might. I feel embarrassed for you."
Olivia stopped right next to Pam, whose 8 feet long legs were crossed high at the knees. She wore another vintage Chanel dress suit, in hot pink tweed, matching lipstick and nude Christian Louboutins. "You have feelings? Since when?"
"You're right," the vampire smirked with her southern drawl, which was as thick as the locals. It made her wonder if she was from here all along. "Take a seat, they are getting ready in the new change room."
She meant the new dancers. Pam had requested that Olivia be present at the call-back auditions for whatever reason. Olivia sat 3 feet away from the vampire, knees together and purse on her lap feeling entirely out of place. Who made her an expert on strippers, she didn't know.
"Eric has gone to-"
"I didn't ask," Olivia interrupted. She was actually a bit happy he wasn't here. She was still pretty pissed at him for making himself a room in her house. "Why am I here again? I've never even been to a strip club,"
"Well, you claim to have the talent of spotting cops from a mile away. Thought it would be useful to get your seal of approval."
"What- you think one of them is a narc?"
"Or something! I don't know!"
"Pamela, where the fuck would a stripper hide a wire?"
"Up her-"
Thankfully, the first lady entered the stage. She was a vampire, about 6 feet tall in black Pleaser boots. She wore a silver bikini which showed her beautiful dark olive skin and she had thick curly hair that framed her stunning face and light hazel eyes.
"That's Felicia, the best of the bunch. An import from Baton Rouge," Pam told her, in a sultry whisper.
Olivia could by the everything that Pamela and Felicia had had sex. She didn't blame either party. Music started playing and she moved smoothly around the stage, on and around the pole. She had good flow, definitely on the classier side. Olivia wouldn't be much help judging the loyalty of vampires, she could only hope some of the dancers were human. Then Pam called out the next dancer and Felicia started to make her way off the stage.
"Hold on a minute, that's it?" Olivia interrupted.
Pamela killed the music and suddenly you could hear a pin drop in the bar. "You got a problem, sugar?" She asked, irritated.
Liv felt the heat on her face. "That was dancing, not pole dancing. Isn't that like - a big part of a strip club experience?" Pam looked at her expressionless but she could tell she was deeply annoyed. Or maybe that was just her face. Olivia turned her attention back to the stage "Felicia, can you invert?"
The vampire stood awkwardly on stage and kept looking back and forth between Olivia and Pamela, but gave no answer.
"Can you at least climb?" Olivia asked, but all she got was a cold stare from the vampire.
"Answer her," Pam demanded.
After a moment the vampire spoke. "Climb what?"
"Climb the pole?" Olivia clarified but was a bit horrified that she had to. That was like, lesson 2 in pole dancing after your basic spins. And with her vampire strength, it should have been a given. Liv spun on the couch, facing Pamela. "Dare I ask about your audition process?"
Pamela's face softened into a devilish smile. "Well, since you asked-"
"Nevermind," Olivia let out a big sigh and got up. "I suggest you get them a coach or something. We need to sell the actual stripper experience if we are keeping the doors open."
She couldn't launder money with no legal tender to mix it with.
"I had someone in mind actually," Pam propped her elbow on the back of the couch and rested her head on the hand. The silence that followed her ogling flirtatious eyes made Olivia's heart rate spike.
"Oh hell no. I am not teaching them!"
"Why not? I know you got one of these in your house," she nodded at the poles on the stage. "Are you not any good?"
"Pamela, what is it that you think I do all day?"
"I generally try not to think of you. Truly. You get on my fuckin' nerves."
The feeling was mutual. Olivia had to bite her tongue in order not to say what was really on her mind. "Where's the changing room?"
"Old storage room. First door on the left, in the back."
Olivia stormed out of the main floor and headed past the bar. She could hear the girls talking over trap music coming from a shitty quality speaker, probably someone's cheap phone. When Liv popped in by the door, she found 4 other women putting makeup and tiny clothes on, and zuhzing their hair with glitter hair spray. Their heads turned for a moment before continuing their getting ready process.
"You dancin' too girl?" A skinny and pale girl with short blond wavy hair asked.
"Nah, she looks too fancy. Unless she's the expensive kinda girl. VIP experience!" Another joked and they all laughed.
Turns out Felicia was the only vampire dancer, the other 4 were alive. In the locker room, the blonde-haired girl was a werewolf, her mind was cloudy just like Debbie Pelt's. The other three were plain human and were all loud broadcasters. Clear as FM radio in the city. Mind check on 4 out 5 girls was… Pretty good odds.
"Which one of you is a fed?" Olivia asked plainly. Sometimes asking the direct question was the only way to get their minds to go where she wanted them.
The room then went real quiet, and suddenly no one was laughing, giggling or thinking Olivia looked like an expensive stripper (though she took it as a compliment). Liv tuned in each of the girls' minds. The one who assumed she was a VIP stripper - she actually recognized. Her name was Tara and she was previously a bartender at Merlotte's who got fired a week ago. Tara wasn't thrilled at becoming a dancer, but she had gone through just about every job in her hometown and gotten fired from it. In Shreveport, no one knew her, and people from Bon Temps would never set foot in a vampire bar, so she hoped to make just enough money to move to New Orleans for good.
The weregirl's name was Crystal. Her mind was difficult to read, but there were gaps amidst the clouds that let out incomplete thoughts. She wanted to make money and maybe meet some hot guys she wasn't related to because she was tired of having sex with her… Cousins? Wait, what?! There was a lot to unpack there, but let's just ditch the whole baggage.
Moving on to the next one - Dawn was a gorgeous woman, slender with curves, wavy long brown hair and blue eyes. She was here for fame and money and she thought she was too pretty to die a waitress. Dawn wanted to be desired by vampires, maybe meet a rich and powerful one, fall in lust. Oh boy, Eric was going to love this one.
The last one was Aurora, who went by the name of Savannah. She had beautiful Olive skin and shorter brown wispy hair. She was using a fake ID to run away from an abusive ex whom she was terrified of. Not a lot of jobs didn't make you fill W-4, and she was just too scared to risk giving out her real name anywhere and be found. She was dead certain her ex was looking for her. Maybe being surrounded by vampires would give her protection too. Now that was a smart woman, but Olivia couldn't help but feel bad for her.
The girls still all glanced at each other, now theorizing who amongst them was an undercover cop. For Olivia's relief, no one had ulterior motives to be here.
Tara then asked, "How do I know you ain't a cop?"
"I'm Olivia Carson, Mr. Northman's accountant," none of the girls said anything. Crystal, the blonde, didn't even know what an accountant was. "I do the payroll?" They all nodded, studying her face, eager at the prospect of being paid. "Do any of you have pole dancing experience?"
"I did a class at a bachelorette party once last year," Dawn pipped in.
"I learned how to twerk from watchin' MTV! I was told I was quite good." Crystal cheered.
Told by whom? Your cousin? Olivia had to bite her tongue again. None of this is what she had in mind when she pitched the idea of turning the vampire bar into a vampire strip club.
"Found any foxes in the coop?" Pam suddenly appeared beside her, hand on her hip.
"No, they are clear. But they are going to need help and lots of it. I suggest you hire a professional stripper too, pay her however much she asks and get her to teach them. Someone Russian, or eastern European, they dance well. Meanwhile, scale their tips according to skill. Whoever can do simple spins 12%; climb to the top 20%; invert 40%; do a shoulder mount 50%; jade split 60%... Yeah, that should work."
This would allow her to launder a lot right away if in the books they all made 75% from the start. Olivia surprised even herself sometimes.
"I don't know what any of that means. What the fuck a jade split?" Tara asked, already thinking this gig was already too complicated and way too much work.
Olivia rolled her eyes. What kind of stripper didn't know what a jade split was? And who the fuck assumed being a stripper was easy? "You'll see."
Pam agreed to it, mostly because she was bored of it all and wanted to go do something else. As Olivia was making her way out of Fangtasia, Pam's phone started ringing and the tall vampire scoffed at the screen.
"Fuckin' Ginger, I'm gonna start charging her per phone call," she snapped the phone open and answered angrily. "Hold, you bleach bucket. Olivia,"
Liv turned on her pink heels, her hand already resting on the front door's handle.
Pam stared at her across the empty bar, phone in hand. She had a different twinkle in her eye. The eye-fucking kind. "If you were a dancer here, what would I tip you?"
Olivia wanted to say with a whole lot of pride she would be making the full 60%. She had poled for about 4 years consistently and put a whole lot of sweat (and some tears) into it. Pole was by far the most challenging sport she had ever done - and she attended 10 years of ballet academy growing up. She had nothing but admiration for talented strippers and thought the girls upstairs. If they decided to stick to it, they were brave for attempting the journey up and around the pole.
Liv mustered a shy smile before stepping through the door. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
Olivia woke up with a loud ringing noise cutting through her house. It was the front doorbell again, someone was pressing it over and over again. She sat up, disoriented. It took her a moment for her to remember where she was. She lived here now, not at the Fairview Hotel.
It was still very much dark out, which meant something was wrong. In the distance, she could hear dogs barking in the back neighbor's yard, also startled by the noise. In a half-asleep stumble, Olivia made her way to the front of the house.
"Who is it?" She called out behind the door which had no peephole, feeling the cold fear only a stranger at the door in the middle of the night could make you feel.
"It's me," Eric's voice called out from outside.
But no muscle in her body relaxed when she unlocked and opened the door. Eric's eyes looked dark like the night. His skin was paler than usual, a silent rage emanated from him.
"Eric it's the middle of the-"
"Get in the car."
"Now?"
"Now," she could see the glimmer of the tips of his fangs peaking between his perfect lips.
She felt the chill in her bones, turning her veins into glacier streams. He had done this once before, used their blond bond as of means of threat. Whenever it had happened, it was level 1 class A serious. Olivia went back to her room and put on the same clothes from earlier - bra, green button-up, white skirt, pink heels. They were still tossed on the armchair in the corner of her bedroom. Sometimes being messy had its upsides. She brushed her hair quickly and threw some mascara on, and grabbed her phone - it was 4 AM. What could be so important that had to be dealt with so close to dawn?
She stepped outside and locked the door, and the front gate too. Eric had gone back inside his red corvette parked directly in front of her house. Outside all she could hear were crickets, frogs and night critters along with the quiet hum of the Corvette's engine. The dogs had quieted down.
She still felt the biting cold in her skin, caused certainly by the vampire because the night was uncomfortably warm. Olivia wondered where he was going to take her. Last time it was Dallas, but at least he had politely asked first. Maybe with the ruse gone, intimidation was the only card he had left to play and it was highly effective. Maybe she should head back inside and demand some answers before she went anywhere with him. But then again, if he wanted to hurt her could have done so already in about 10 different ways.
She scurried down the sidewalk after scanning the houses on the street. The only lights on were the street lamps, but she wouldn't be surprised if Mrs. Fortenberry was spying from behind her lacy living room curtain, formulating wild rumours and unleashing them to the entire town come morning.
Olivia entered the car and Eric hit the gas the second she closed the door. They were already a block away by the time she managed to put her seatbelt on. She watched the blond vampire blow through just about every stop sign and red light on his way downtown.
"It's Pam. She's been arrested." He said looking straight through the windshield, without looking at Olivia.
"By whom? Shreveport PD?"
"Worse," Eric sped up on a tight curve, making Olivia's body lean against the door. "The Magister has her now. Because I'm her Maker, Duprez was called to arrest her."
Duprez was the Sherriff of Area 2, in Alexandria. She knew vampires were highly organized and had Walt Disney Corporation levels of efficiency, but the speed at how the dominoes were falling here was a bit suspicious. She had seen Pamela earlier tonight at the call-back audition and left the bar at around 11 PM. So between then and now Pam had committed a crime, gotten caught, arrested by another Sheriff who lived 2.5 hours away? All in about 5 hours?
"What the hell did she do?"
"She allegedly killed another vampire at Ginger's party, with witnesses."
He may as well have told her Pamela went on a killing spree at a petting zoo. None of it made sense. "And you believe it? When is court?"
"Right now." A heavy silence filled the car once again. The more she looked at Eric the more she saw through his anger and understood what it really was - Eric Northman was afraid. He was scared, terrified, of losing Pam. She thought it was strange, perhaps a bit surreal, that in a time like this Eric would call on her, of all people. Liv wasn't sure how she was supposed to help. He knew the vampire laws better than her, and in a vampire court her telepathy was useless. She didn't like not being able to help him.
When they pulled into Fangtasia the parking lot it was absolutely jam-packed with cars. Every vampire in the Area had shown up to witness the Sheriff's progeny - whom Liv was sure probably wasn't entirely beloved by their people - on the stand. When Eric and Olivia entered the bar, the place was even fuller inside. Vampires of all kinds stood shoulder to shoulder, as most of the seating was gone.
Pamela was handcuffed to one of the stripper poles on the main stage, her wrists were burnt and bleeding as the shackles were made out of silver. She had a brave face on now, but her cheeks had red-pink streaks across her magnolia petal skin. Pam was wearing the same outfit as earlier - hot pink Chanel dress suit, but it had blood splattered all over it. Her hair looked a bit flat, she was missing her shoes. She looked so small without her heels. Seeing Pam like this made her stomach sunk.
An older man with sunken eyes and short grey hair in a pinstripe suit sat on Eric's throne right next to her. He held a cane straight up between his legs. On his fingers, he wore huge brass and gold rings. The whole ensemble made him look like an old gangster or a mafia boss from old movies. Olivia figured this was Jorge Alonso de San Diego, the Magister. He played the Supreme court judge in all vampire matters on the behalf of the Vampire Authority. Sophie-Anne told her stories about him. His judgment was absolute and he was rather cold and strict, even at vampire standards. He had even sentenced vampires from his own nest to death during the Spanish Inquisition.
Back when posing as a human was the norm for vampires, Jorge was one of Joseph Stalin's advisors and his biggest achievement was overseeing the accomplishment of the Road of Bones across the Soviet Union. It's a long stretch of highway that took 20 years to build, made up entirely from prisoner labour. Russian convicts were forced to work until they dropped dead, and when the night came, vampires who lived in the forest surrounding the construction crews came to feed on the dead. By morning, the living prisoners buried the remains right under the road they were paving, as they had already prepped the hard soil for paving and it took too long to dig graves for everyone. It was estimated the bodies of 1 million people lie buried under the road and it was regarded in vampire history as one of the greatest and most bountiful projects that fed hundreds of hungry vampires across Asia for two whole decades. To Olivia, it was a lesson, an important reminder of exactly who she was working for. Vampires will use you until drop dead, or the second you become irrelevant they will plow right over you without shedding a tear. Granted, some humans weren't all that different. Stalin was plenty inhuman on his own, no glamouring required.
Now Jorge Alonso was about to decide on whether or not Pamela committed murder and choose her punishment. The odds, Olivia figured, were not good.
Eric stood stiffly in a little clearing at the edge of the stage. He was by far the tallest man in the room, and even though he wasn't the accused, all eyes were on him. His authority naturally commanded the room wherever he was - up a throne or down with the herd.
Olivia stayed back amongst the crowd, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. There were rumbling whispers in the crowd. Along with Eric stood Duprez, the Area 2 Sheriff. He was a robust black man, who wore a sleek black leather jacket on top of an all-black outfit. He had a short buzzcut and a goatee, and a permanently angry look on his face. And to complete the circus, Ginger was there along with another Fangtasia bartender, Belinda. She had dyed long black hair and was a bit older, maybe in her 40s. Both were slobbering crying messes, whimpering in fear. Now, this she could work with.
The Magister knocked the floor between his feet with his metal-tipped cane. "Silence! Silence!" The crowd hushed. "Mr. Northman, are we ready to continue?"
"Yes, Magister."
"I hereby declare this special hearing in session!" He said loudly before lowering his voice to his regular tone. "Out of sheer respect to your good reputation, I shall let you start the proceedings with your defence," Jorge Alonso nodded to Eric.
"Thank you, Magister," Eric's voice wasn't as stern as usual. There was a lot on the line here. "As every vampire in this court can attest, Pamela is as a vampire as one can be, sir. She would never kill another one of our kind, not without my say-so. And I most certainly did not give my say-so."
"You put a lot of faith in your progeny, Mr. Northman," another vampire called, stepping out of the crowd. He was native American with a fringed suede jacket, with long smooth dark hair tied back in a low ponytail.
"I do, Hot Rain. Pamela Swynford De Beaufort is the very definition of grace and loyalty," Eric's voice became cold and flat, with threatening undertones. Whoever this vampire was, Eric Northman did not care for him.
"Okay, so am I supposed to what? Take your word for it? A vampire is dead, Sherriff, under your jurisdiction. Our numbers are low enough as it is, this cannot go unpunished! Where are the witnesses?"
Duprez made Ginger and Belinda stand up, and along came three other vampires. The face of one was familiar but she did not her name. The other two Olivia did not recognize. But then again, she avoided people's faces whenever she was in the club, so for all Liv knew, they could all be local.
"Mr. Northman, are they your underlings?" The Magister asked, referring to Belinda and Ginger. Eric nodded, and Jorge finally addressed them with a plain look of disgust on his face. He wasn't at all happy having humans in his courtroom. "Speak."
Ginger was shaking like a leaf in the middle of a hurricane. She was wearing a short tube top and a micro denim skirt and tall red cowboy boots. With that much skin uncovered, Ginger was probably shaking from cold. She had black mascara and eyeliner smudges all over her eyes and cheekbones, making her look like a sad starved raccoon.
Olivia reached deep into her mind but only found what she always found in Ginger's head. Memories and thoughts spread out like chopped and unsorted puzzle pieces. She had been glamoured so much in her life, she was pretty sure Ginger had been permanently brain-damaged. It was impossible to tell if her mind had been meddled with since the murder, as everything in there was distorted almost beyond recognition.
Duprez looked deeply into Ginger's eyes and demanded her to tell the truth with a glamour.
"I was in the kitchen makin' cajun margaritas when there were loud n' angry voices in down the hall and when I went to look and saw Master Pamela was in the middle of a pile of goop, holdin' a stake in the bedroom."
Well, that didn't sound very good.
Duprez glamoured the truth out of Belinda too, but she was in the living room with a vampire fangs-deep in her neck at the time and she saw while nothing, she did hear the argument coming from the bedroom as well. We were batting 0-2 here.
The three vampires who came forward were also at Ginger's party. One was feeding on Belinda and the other three were in the living room dancing when Pam showed up. Colin, the vampire who had been murdered, insulted Pamela the second she arrived, as the two allegedly had a sour love affair in the past. The lost lovers then went into the bedroom to discuss private matters, and she instantly stabbed him through his heart the second Colin was cornered. They swore they saw it happen with their own eyes. Her standing in the carpeted room, right in front of Ginger's queen-sized coffin bed driving the stake right through his heart making his whole body explode like a water balloon. They claimed Colin and Pamela had a less than amicable breakup which made up a solid motive.
"It was not a fuckin' love affair! I was his Maker!" Pamela cried out, and the crowd gasped in horror. This wasn't a favorable or believable piece of information. "I released him a century ago. I was set up! Colin killed himself, y'all gotta believe me!" Her voice was breaking as she tried to hold her desperation tears back.
Knowing Pam, killing an old flame who wronged her was exactly something she would do. Eric looked at her expressionless. There was nothing he could do to help his one and only child. Olivia did not know what the punishment was for a vampire killing another vampire, but she was going to guess it was not a fun one. Especially if it was Jorge Alonso de San Diego as the judge, jury and executioner.
The crowd in the bar burst into loud whispers once again, some people laughed, others widely speculated, and Ginger broke out crying once again. She had a complicated relationship with her boss but felt overwhelmingly guilty by what happened. Ginger had no idea she had been dating her boss's ex and only progeny. Olivia had to try something, anything.
She stepped forward and kneeled between Ginger and Belinda, pretending to console them. Olivia knew Ginger did not care for her, not one bit. The barmaid was jealous of all the attention she got from Eric, but little did the poor woman know that if she could redirect it elsewhere, she would. In fact, she was actively trying to.
Ginger had snot and tears all over her hands and forearms, and Olivia wished she had a tissue for her, but alas, she didn't. The two waitresses seemed thankful they had another human there, even if Olivia couldn't help. She put her hands on Ginger's exposed knees, hoping they would be dry and snot-less. "Ginger, look at me," Liv whispered. "Tell me what happened again."
"I was in the kitchen, I swear," she shrieked before sobbing loudly again but didn't manage to get another comprehensible word out.
But Ginger's mind was replaying the party over and over again in a loop. More than words, Olivia could concentrate enough she could extract images from the woman's mind since touching heightened her abilities. She watched the woman's memory reel replay a couple of times like a short POV movie. It was out of order, but she understood most of it.
Colin, the deceased again vampire, was new in town and flirted with Ginger all last week before Fangtasia closed for renos and they have been hooking since last weekend. He wanted to meet new people, vampires and fangbangers alike. Ginger called up some vampires she knew, plus Belinda. She knew a hell lot more fangbangers but didn't want to share the attention. However she drank a bit too much, or maybe had taken drugs because this part was fuzzy (maybe she was glamoured to do so, it was hard to tell), she ended up calling Pamela in hopes she would bring Eric over too.
Ginger's house was small, in the Queensborough neighborhood of Shreveport. Despite the fancy name, it wasn't nice at all. In just a short glimpse of the inside of her home, she found a major flaw in the testimony of the three vampires. She mustered all her courage and spoke up. "Hold it!"
"Well, it's Mr. Northman's word against three vampires. I am sorry to inform you, but I have my answer and it is not a favourable one to your progeny-"
If Eric's heart could stop beating, it would have right then and there. They would run away, never return. Go to South America maybe, they were hostile against vampires, but they could pose as humans as they've done for over a century. Pamela would not be punished for something she hadn't done, not if he could help it. If she said she didn't do it, then she didn't. Despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary.
But suddenly, Olivia stood up next to him. "Hold it!" She spoke loud and clear. "Pamela is right, she is being set up."
"I'm sorry, why is there another human here at all? Duprez, dispose of the intruder," the Magister ordered.
The Sheriff was about to grab her by the arm but was interrupted by Eric's hand, who grabbed his in the blink of an eye. "Touch her and see what happens," he growled.
"I have orders," Duprez hissed back showing his fangs.
"As do I," Eric said cooly.
Olivia made Ginger stand up by pulling the woman off the couch. He wasn't sure what she was doing, but he had to buy her time to do her thing. "Ginger, where do you live?" She asked loudly.
"Uhm, Parsons street? Queensborough?"
"Right, and is it true you live in a shotgun house?"
Everyone was confused by Olivia's line of questioning, Eric included. "Uh, yes?"
"Ginger, why is it called a shotgun house?"
"Ah, I-" Ginger seemed confused and scattered and she wasn't sure how to explain it. Goddammit, Ginger. "Cause they're built cheap so you can shoot right through?"
Olivia's face flashed with disappointment for a second. Whatever answer she was looking for, Ginger did not deliver. "It's called a shotgun house because you can stand in the front door and shoot a shotgun straight down the entryway and out of the backdoor. There's a hallway running right through the house, front to back," Olivia explained. "Isn't that right, Ginger?"
"Ah, yes?" Ginger's eyes were running all around the room, noticing it was quiet again. Everyone was silent and hanging onto every word the two women were saying. "Yes!" She repeated firmly.
"Very good, Ginger. This kind of house is very popular in New Orleans, and all across Louisiana and the south. Every room of the house is its own little compartment, joined only by the hallway-"
The Magister, however, was less than impressed. "Where exactly is your little architectural lesson going?"
"I have a point, I swear."
"Go on," Jorge Alonso rolled his eyes. "Duprez, stand by."
The other Sherriff pulled his wrist away with a snarl but his glare did not leave Olivia's neck. It was clear to him that Duprez would have her the second he could.
"My question to the vampire witnesses is," Olivia turned to the three vampires. "If you were in the living room out front feeding on Belinda and partying, and Pamela and Colin were in the bedroom near the back, can you see through walls?"
There were small gasps and gulps in the room. The three of them didn't answer but hissed at her instead, hands making claws and were ready to jump on her bones. And they attempted to, but Eric shielded her before she could even flinch. As clawed hands and limbs came flying at him he broke them without hesitation. Bones snapped like twigs, followed by the screams coming from both Ginger and Belinda who witnessed all of it, and the vampires who laid splattered on the floor with broken legs dislocated shoulders and torn hands. It was pretty tame compared to what he was allowed to do, but considering this was a murder trial he chose to hold back.
Suddenly every vampire in the room had their fangs out and the room filled with growls and snarls. The tensions were high, and a fight was about to break out when the Magister stood up from Eric's seat.
"ORDER!" His voice thundered across the bar as he repeatedly banged his cane onto the stage floor. "I SAID ORDER IN MY COURT!" Jorge Alonso's fangs were also showing. "Sheriff, it doesn't help your case to attack fellow vampires in my presence!"
"I am duty-bound by the Louisiana Queen to protect this woman!" Eric snarled back, menacing the entire room. Olivia took a tiny sharp breath, her eyes not leaving him. She didn't want him to reveal their contract. He could hear her voice clear in his mind saying the word liability.
There were confused looks in the crowd, the Magister included. He leaned forward and glared at Olivia as if she were suddenly made out of diamonds. "Olivia Carson?"
"In the flesh," she smiled politely as if her life did not hang in the balance.
"You know, that was the first edict of protection I wrote since Charles Manson. When the Louisiana Queen requested yours I thought we weren't even issuing those anymore," the Magister sat back down on the throne as whispers grew hungry in the room and Eric could hear the stares in the room, their eyes were somehow loud.
Well. If the Area 5 vampires didn't know about her protection contract then, everyone certainly knew now. He looked deeply at her eyes, but her face was more than he could bear looking at. She resented him for making himself vulnerable in a time he should only be worried about his progeny. He didn't know if she was upset because this complicated their life, or because she actually cared about him. But then again, why would she care about him?
"Where were we?" Jorge Alonso asked the court, making the room silent again.
"Vampires seeing through walls," Olivia had a tiny cheeky smile when she said it.
The three vampires who tried to attack her on the floor setting their broken arm and leg bones straight with cries of pain. He really folded them like paper in just a few seconds. May it serve as a warning to may happen to you if you cross Eric Northman, his progeny or his accountant.
"Is there anyone in this court who has been in the crime scene who can confirm or deny Miss Carson's evidence?" he looked at the crowd.
The vampires who came to be spectators at this court, suddenly all became witnesses in the crime. He knew damn Ginger had slept with half of them, and it was time for them to pony the fuck up. Eric turned around to face the crowd, and when he did, about a dozen vampires had stepped forward, agreeing that Olivia's evidence was the truth - you could not see into the bedroom from the living room. He was annoyed and disappointed no one had stepped forward before and that they rather see Pamela punished for something she didn't do over being honorable. He knew it was vampire etiquette not to get involved with Magister matters if you can in any way, shape or form, but he was still disappointed by his constituents' lack of honor.
"My-my room is the back of the house, judge," Ginger spoke again. "I was drunk makin' margaritas but I was still half keepin' an eye on Belinda from the kitchen across the hall," Ginger spoke without weeping for the first time in the evening. "Come to think of it, it's the only two rooms that face each other."
The matter was settled.
Jorge Alonso rolled his eyes, with a big sigh. "You three, in case you were unaware, do you know what I hate more than vampires who waste my precious court time? It's liars. On the crimes of perjury, I sentence you to the same fate I would have otherwise given Miss Swynford De Beaufort. Six months in the underwater box. Duprez, Northman, carry on."
Eric rushed to the stage and uncuffed Pam without a word, while Chow, Duprez and another Area 5 vampire named Gerald handcuffed the liars who hissed in protest. Pam was shaky as she stood beside him, holding his hand. Her hands never felt so small. He gently guided her down the stairs, as if Pamela were made of glass. For a moment back there, she was about to shatter.
"I call upon Pamela to recount what really happened to Colin, and I request that it may be regarded as the truth, and the final truth of the final events," Eric soared from the bottom of the stage, still holding onto Pam's hand as she slowly walked down the steps. He didn't want any more inquiries made on this matter.
"Go on, Miss Swynford de Beaufort," the Magister nodded from the throne. "I too would like to know,"
Pamela cleared her throat, still standing on the last step down the stage. When she spoke, it was as clear as her voice had always been. Strong and unwavering. "Ginger was drunk off her tits and called me to her house to party with vampires from Arkansas who had moved here a week ago. I knew it was trouble from the second she told me 'cause no vampire had declared himself to Sheriff Northman in the past week,"
"When I entered the house, Colin was there practically waitin' to pick a fight with me the second I stepped into the little plywood shack Ginger lives in. And to make matters crystal clear to all you fuckin' dirty sewer rats, I don't fuckin' date, I don't do boyfriends or girlfriends. What am I? Human? For fuck's sake, are you fuckin' kiddin' me? I have goddamn standards people!"
Now that was the Pamela he raised. "When I followed that dirty little British farmboy further back into the house, he killed himself right in front of me, leaving me alone in a room with goop all over my vintage and original Chanel jacket which was the real crime of this evenin', mind y'all."
"Do you seriously expect us to believe he true deathed himself? To what? Punish you?" Duprez asked, unsure if he was following the story.
And he had a point if you didn't know what they knew. Her account of Colin's death made as much sense as Santa or the Easter Bunny. With a story like that, it's no fucking wonder Pamela got arrested. Who would believe her?
"What can I say? He never got over bein' released, and wanted me to know it." Pamela looked at Eric with an expressionless look on her face. There was more to the story that she wasn't telling but he knew what dots to connect here. Colin came from Arkansas, and guess what other mighty guest from Arkansas stood in the room with them? Hot Rain. And there were no such things as coincidences.
A progeny for a progeny was a very old but very common form of revenge in the vampire world. Hot Rain must have paid or blackmailed Colin to kill himself in order to incriminate Pamela. If Eric's progeny were found guilty of murder, she could very well be killed right in front of his eyes. He would feel the pain as Hot Rain felt it. The justice system that he served for and protected him all these years would be the one to take away his most prized possession, his only childe. Plus, it would have a ripple effect. His inability of keeping his own child in line would severely damage his own authority, leaving him vulnerable to enemies - probably killed. But pointing out this little detail to the Magister would incriminate Eric himself with the murder of Longshadow, for stealing drug money from the Queen. Thank fucking Satan he had brought Olivia to this. He owed her Pam's life, he knew that much.
"Very well then. Sheriffs, take them away. It's getting a bit too close to dawn for my comfort, so I shall retire to my chambers. The court is dismissed."
The crowd dissipated quickly right after the Magister left the building and entered the back of his Lincoln, headed to the graveyard where the Magister owned a little mausoleum. Jorge Alonso de San Diego liked sleeping in graveyards, he was old school like that.
Soon most cars left the parking lot quietly and just minutes after only a few of them were left. Pamela, Chow, Olivia and himself. Duprez had taken the three vampires to be locked in coffins and sunk somewhere in a deep lake, probably the Toledo Bend Reservoir. He felt sick to his stomach thinking about Pamela suffering their fate. Locked, alone in a coffin submerged in water. Vampires didn't breathe, so they wouldn't drown. But they were dead and not only they would starve for six months, their bodies would swell from being in the water for so long. They wouldn't even look human when their coffins reopen in the winter.
This left Eric with maybe an hour left of darkness to figure out if they were still in danger or not.
Pamela was washing her face behind the bar while Chow was locking all exits. Olivia went to the office to switch VHS tapes on the security reel. Eric wanted a copy of them to study later.
"You okay?" Eric slowly approached his progeny, who still looked fairly upset. She was now rage scrubbing the blood off her jacket over the sink.
"What do you think? That was fuckin' humiliating," her bracelets dangled and shook on her wrists as she rubbed the tweed fabric with anger.
"They'll forget soon enough-"
"Not Hot Rain though. Colin told me he was gonna enjoy seeing you watching me fuckin' die in front of everybody before he exploded all over my fuckin' clothes," her lips quivered.
His theory was correct. Pamela could have died, or suffered six months of pure torture as someone's revenge. All because of Long Shadows' greed. But maybe it was Hot Rain all along - maybe Long Shadow was stealing money for his Maker. But for what?
Still, a large part of him was starting to blame the Queen. None of this would have happened if she didn't force them to sell drugs for her. If he had stolen clean money, he would have been publicly executed in the middle of the Queen's courtyard for all to see.
"You shouldn't have gone to Ginger's house," Eric told her simply. "You should have told me we had undeclared guests-"
"Colin is my problem. I should have ended his pathetic excuse of a life the day I got bored of him."
Eric tried to remember Colin, but for the life of him, he could not even put a face to the name. Pamela made this farmworker she met at a town pub into her progeny probably a year or two after becoming a vampire herself. "Why did you make him, by the way?"
Pam tossed her jacket in the garbage, giving up on the garment. "I thought it would be nice to own a man in his peak sexual prime. Turns out, they peak in neediness too."
All baby vampires are needy - they are babies. But now was not the time to remind her that she was particularly needy when she was young too.
"Your problems are my problems, Pamela. You should have told me," he repeated in a stern tone.
"I would have if you weren't so busy tryin' to fuck the new girl!" She spat.
And of course, because karma was cosmical, Olivia just reappeared from outback just in time to hear Pam's little rant. Now, what Pam said had been unfair. Eric had a meeting with the Magister all evening, reporting on the local Church's basement finds and the number of drainers he had 'corrected'.
"What you should have done was come up with a better cover-up story." Olivia mocked her as she approached the two vampires. "Abandoned progeny commits suicide as revenge 100 years later? Come on-"
Eric knew what was going to happen about half a second before it did. It was like his mind saw it all unfold slightly in the future, or maybe because his brain knew what happened when you put two stubborn mouthy women together, and one of them is Pamela. Things explode.
Pam jumped over the bar and lunged towards Olivia, fangs ready to pierce her neck, hands ready to break it. But Eric, of course, intervened. He intercepted her whole rage with his body by throwing his progeny against the support column, pinning her against it, holding her tightly with both hands. The two collided in a fit of hisses and anger, and resentment. He hated that he had to do this. She hated that he did.
"Don't make me break your bones too," Eric whispered trying to calm her down.
"I'm going to FUCKING-"
He tugged on her body and slammed it back against the column. "Stop it!"
"You can't be fuckin' serious-" Pam said it under her breath, still stunned from the hit, or maybe from the fact that he had turned against her.
"Get in the car, Olivia," Eric called out, not breaking eye contact with his progeny who looked both heartbroken and severely pissed off. Well, mostly pissed off. "Don't make me do this," he quietly threatened her, but in reality, he was begging her.
He only loosened his grip on Pam after he heard Chow unlock the front door for Olivia, who exited without a word. Pamela stood still, looking smaller and more broken than she had all night.
"You know that I have to protect her. Even from you," Eric looked away, focusing on the throne, his throne, who had been used by someone he entirely loathed. Someone who tried to hurt the person he loved the most. But the only person who had really hurt her tonight, he feared, was himself. "Go to ground in one of the coffins in the basement. Chow will stay the day with you."
"And where are you going?" She asked with tears on her eyes, one hand on the base of her throat, where his fingers had left a mark.
"To end this."
A.N.:
Really had you there in the first half huh? Thinking this was going to be another chill chapter lmao
Things are going to get messy and I'm LIVING for it
til next time angels
xoxo