And here's today's second chapter. Happy Easter to those who celebrate.


First Night Nerves, Second Night Surprises


I stepped away from Russell and waved Sookie over, feeling unusually tense. There was much I wanted to know: what had changed with her; what was the same; what brought her here.

What made her eyes drop in the lobby, when I congratulated her on her engagement.

I was vampire, I could smell weakness. Especially a weakness I could exploit. But I had been wrong about Sookie before. This conversation might prove crucial.

I was… nervous.

The light in Sookie's eyes vanished when she heard the message was from Rory, not Pam.

Was she … jealous? Still? Surely not, that was wishful thinking. Rory and Sookie hadn't hit it off, that was all. But the idea that Sookie wasn't entirely indifferent to the company I kept made me ridiculously pleased.

Turnabout was fair play: jealousy had been pricking at me all damn night.

Someone else would be jealous too, if I had my way. As I showed Sookie how to work my cell, our heads bent over the screen, I deliberately stood too close to her, brushed her fingers. Shame Quinn had such a great view.

Shame she pulled away and I caught sight of that fucking ring again.

Regret was a bitch, and one I wasn't used to having as a mistress.

I put so much effort into maintaining my smirk, I almost missed the blush rising on Sookie's neck. Anger? No, her heart rate was even. Embarrassment, then. Why? My nearness? The ring?

Maybe all wasn't well with the tiger.

Good. He didn't deserve her.

Although I could be misinterpreting things. Fuck, she was biting her lip as she read. I could almost taste-

She finished all too soon, rolling her eyes as she handed the phone back. I skimmed the message, wanting to know what had triggered her irritation, and was intrigued.

I couldn't pass up the opportunity to prolong our encounter with a little banter. When Sookie made a crack about animals not having souls, a vivid memory of hunting elk with my hounds swept over me. So vivid I almost felt Rosta's warm fur under my fingers, and heard Gramr's bark.*

I hadn't thought of them for centuries, and the strength of it took me by surprise. Like so many things did around Sookie. Of course, I couldn't resist turning her comment around onto the tiger and that put paid to any further interaction.

"A worthy riposte, Northman." Russell's voice reminded me where I was, and I dragged my eyes from Sookie, who was disappearing into the crowd.

Russell glanced across the room at Quinn and added, "It's a pleasure to watch you jerk the tiger's tail."

I followed his gaze. Oh yes, kitty didn't look happy. Smiling broadly, I winked at Quinn. That should confuse the hell out of him.

Oskar strolled over, hands in his pocket, and announced, "Alabama is eager to speak to you, Eric."

"Work, work, work." Russell clucked disapprovingly. "You're sucking all the fun out of things."

Still smirking I replied, "Russell, sucking the fun out things has been Oskar's hobby for centuries."

"Which is why you appointed me," Oskar said dryly.

"True." I looked round. Alabama was already approaching.

"Eric, Russell," she greeted, dipping her head. "Forgive the interruption, but this concerns you both."

Her voice was deep and rich, and her figure was rounded by motherhood, but her eyes were sharp and her bodyguards were impressive. Thalia was hovering in the background, I noticed.

Zola wanted to discuss the oil spill too. She suggested we co-ordinate our responses, and Russell and I agreed. It was, as the humans say, a no-brainer. Zola's common-sense approach boded well for co-operation on other issues that plagued us in the South, like the Fellowship. We talked about that for a while.

Our discussion was, sadly, the most productive one of the night so far. Politically speaking, anyway.

Certainly more use than the small talk and toadying I put up with for the next half hour, until I spotted Bardulf and Yasmin cornering Sookie, too far away to overhear. Sookie left abruptly, the tiger on her heels. Bardulf was up to something, but I had no idea what. I was relieved when Sookie returned, looking composed.

Not that I was paying attention to her every move.

Things finally wound down enough that I could leave, but Michigan waylaid me on the way out, a belligerent set to his jaw. "Northman," he said coldly. "Leaving already?"

"Did you want something, Stewart?" I said nonchalantly.

"Interesting choice of sheriff you brought." His eyes flicked to Neb. "Are we to assume you expected trouble?"

"It pays to be prepared."

"And to hide your spies at home." Michigan fixed his eyes on mine. "The Arab will not find a warm welcome in my territory again."

"Ah. Rasul was not my spy." Another thing I'd taken from de Castro. I added drily, "But I'll pass that on." I doubted Rasul would choose to return even if he grew weary of his post: he disliked the Michigan winters. Too cold.

"See that you do," Michigan snapped, turning away.

Michigan was clearly pissed that Maude had slighted him and flirted with me earlier. If he couldn't see through her games he didn't deserve his head, let alone his throne.

Unless he was playing games too. Maude was watching our little chat. So was her husband, Wisconsin, and he looked ready to stake me.

Fucking politics. And Maude. I didn't appreciate being her unwitting pawn.

Back in the suite Neb said, "An interesting start."

Oskar grunted as he poured us all some warmed Royalty. Summits were a time of heightened tension and the blood was welcome. Kicking off my shoes, I put my feet up on the couch. "Thoughts?"

Oskar sipped his blood before he answered. "Illinois has feelers out. The alliance you and the others have with Texas has attracted his interest."

"We expected that."

"Bartlett should be wary," Neb said. "Indiana is further from you, Russell and Stan."

"Illinois is cautious, slow to act. Bartlett does not see him as an immediate threat." I raised an eyebrow. "Unless you heard something?"

"Only rumours," said the Egyptian. "Ohio is up to something. Perhaps with our friend Bardulf."

Oskar chipped in, "Bardulf may have something going with Kentucky." He side-eyed me. "Hugh got Felipe's suite in the light-tight wing."

I grimaced. "We know."

"He made sure to mention his wonderful rooms," Neb added blandly.

Goro, who was standing guard outside, opened the door and Jephson came in as Oskar grumbled, "Arse-brained little scrote. Nothing more than a jumped-up churl."

"We're in the Americas now," I reminded him. "Land of the free, opportunity for all."

"Boss," the wolf said to me, "the witch from the agency is ready when you are."

I nodded my thanks. The woman ran Magical Memories, one of the escort agencies we used in Louisiana, and wanted to expand her business to other states. She was coming to my last meeting – a discussion on donors, the BSA, and strategies to head off possible legislation.

"Scrote?" Neb asked, turning to Oskar. "I am not familiar with that term."

I was sure he was messing with Oskar, but it was hard to tell with Neb.

"Surely you've heard that one?" Oskar said. "Ball sack."

"Ah. From the Latin. Scrotum. I thought the English were polite."

"No, they're all as vulgar as Oskar," I said.

"Isn't your child English?" Neb asked, still straight-faced. "Pamela seems well-mannered."

Oskar scoffed. "You obviously haven't spent much time with her. She swears like a sailor."

"Ah, but you irritate the hell out of her," I pointed out. "She respects Neb."

"So? He must have heard her say fuck a zombie. It's her favourite."

Neb looked revolted. "A zombie? Did she actually–?"

"No, but she says it–" Oskar broke off and turned to look at Jephson, who was laughing his ass off. "Are we amusing you wolf?"

"Hell yes," he wheezed. "This is way more entertaining than the Ice Queen."

"Is that what you called Eric's late wife?" Oskar looked at me for my reaction. I shrugged.

"Nope," Jephson said, still chuckling. "That's Isabel. Freyda was the Harpy."

I may have smirked at that.

"What did you call Eric?" Neb asked.

Jephson stopped laughing.

"Yes," Oskar said, leaning forward. "Do tell. We'll hold Eric back, stop him killing you."

Jephson shook his head, wary.

Keeping my grin to myself, I asked casually, "Wasn't it the Blond Bastard?"

He blinked, and cleared his throat. "At first, yeah. Didn't know you knew that."

I narrowed my eyes. "At first?"

"Then it was Psycho Slicer. On account of that psycho you diced into a dozen pieces." His eyes flashed with amusement. "Nikolai boasted about that all over the shop."

"Ah." I could see he was warming to his theme, and I wasn't sure who was going to be the butt of whatever joke he was leading up to.

"But after that bloodbath in the lobby it got shortened to Psycho. You were one scary motherfucker that night."

Oskar looked disappointed. "That's hardly insulting."

"Course," Jephson said slowly. "That's not what the girls called him."

"Really? Do tell," Oskar said, eager for some dirt.

"They called him the Magic Flute. On account of him liking to get blown so much."

Oskar's face dropped and I laughed at him.

Shaking his head, he told Jephson in a disappointed tone, "You're as much use as a fox in a hen-house."

"Lot of fun for the fox, that scenario," said Jephson, grinning like the wolf he was. "Boss, if that's all, I'm gonna hit the sack."

I waved him off. "Where were we?" I asked, sobering as the door closed.

"Tennessee," Oskar said. "And his possible alliance with Kentucky."

"Perhaps they are only exchanging favours," Neb said. "Felipe's rooms in exchange for securing the telepath for the summit."

"She isn't here because of Bardulf," I said firmly, but again I wondered what exactly had brought Sookie to the summit. A threat to the tiger seemed most likely. She was admirable loyal, after all, even if it was to someone I loathed. I told them, "Bardulf lost an ally in Nadia. He may be looking to replace her."

"With Kentucky or Ohio?" Neb said thoughtfully.

"Or both." Oskar always did think the worst. "It would take at least three kingdoms to challenge our group."

"Perhaps." I paused, realising Neb was right: Bartlett would be vulnerable if those three got together. "Bardulf is the one to watch."

"Yes. You slighted the prick, he won't forget that." Oskar looked at me. "Talking to the telepath drew attention to her loss too. There was talk."

"Confused talk," Neb countered. "Many speculated she is still of use to Louisiana."

I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Your phone. A message nobody else saw," he explained. "All very mysterious."

"That will annoy Bardulf," Oskar said, grinning viciously.

Neb smiled faintly too. "That would be a bonus. It is time for the meeting, Eric. We should go."

Vampires were masterfully self-interested; any threat to our blood supply concerned us all. The second meeting was much better attended than the one with the Caucus, with representatives from every Amun state, and from Georgia and Philadelphia in Moshup. Eva, the French vampire I'd first met as Franco's human, was sitting with Georgia's second, Henderson.

I gave a presentation. Iowa too, and Michigan. All of us detailing ways to control feeding, keep the process palatable to the human authorities.

Eva came over afterwards, ostensibly to ask a question, but actually to flirt. Honestly? I was more gratified by the interest in my talk, as demonstrated by those waiting in line for a minute of my time. Eva didn't drag out her advances when I was merely polite. Georgia had probably sent her to catch my attention, for what I wasn't sure.

I was pleased to get down business instead, discussing everything from blood screening to the insurers we used to recruitment. Iowa was impressed by the idea of hiring college students. As she joked about the benefits of intelligent dinner conversation, I noticed the witch from Magic Memories deep in conversation with Russell and Red Rita, no doubt capitalising on the glowing recommendation I gave her agency.

I was the last out, close to dawn. Thus Neb and I were alone in a deserted corridor when Thalia appeared. I ducked into an alcove with her and we had a fast, quiet conversation in Greek while Neb kept a look out.

"Everything is well," she said.

"No-one knows you are there?" In Memphis, I meant.

"No. Not even the telepath," she said, tapping her neck.

Ah, one of Poppy's necklaces. "Bardulf?"

"Behaving. Nothing since August."

"August?"

"The tiger hired Were guards." She grinned, not a pretty sight. "One was Bardulf's wolf. He lead the other into an ambush with a vampire."

"Outcome?"

"All dead." Her grin became menacing and she cackled quietly. "They forgot to look up."

"You covered your tracks?"

"None to cover. I was in the trees. Killed the traitorous wolf with a rock, lassoed the vampire." She mimed pulling him up and staking him, letting him fall. Dusting her hands, she added, "A storm washed away the scents."

"Any trouble since?"

"No. She has a fae guardian now."

"Any good?"

She shrugged. "Diantha is here, watching over her in the day."

"Good." A fairy was no use here. "What have you told Alabama?"

"She knows nothing. Hired me as extra muscle."

"The female with the king is ours." I was careful not to mention Yasmin by name but Thalia nodded decisively; she understood.

That was all we had time to risk, but I went to my day rest feeling satisfied with the night's work.

An hour after sunset on the second night of the summit, I checked myself over in the mirror. Deep blue suit, crisp white shirt, golden tie, hair brushed smooth. Very regal. It wasn't every night I was officially invested as king. I picked up the blue velvet box Pam had gotten for the state seal and exited my room, wishing my child was here.

Neb and Goro were waiting in the lounge. Salvatore and the female guard, Marie, fell into place behind us when we left the suite. Jephson was holding the elevator. Downstairs, Oskar was waiting outside the room set aside for me to dress in. I handed him the seal to give to the Pythoness, and opened the door.

I froze and blinked. Twice.

"Pamela," I said, crossing the tiny room in two strides. She was smirking. Oskar chuckled behind me, but I barely heard him or the door closing. I rested my forehead against hers, closed my eyes and let her feel how pleased I was. "How?"

"Oskar arranged it, Rory flew up with my coffin, and I stayed very calm."

I laughed, pulling back. She wasn't calm now. Our blood connection was jangling with her excitement.

She gestured at herself. "Too matchy matchy?"

A blue pant suit over a gold blouse. It suited her. "No. You look like a king's child. It's perfect."

She looked me over critically. "You're not, not quite. It's a good job I came."

She gestured at the chair in front of the mirror, and I sat. She brushed the shoulders of my suit, and then wove two neat braids into the sides of my hair, gathering them together at the back. "There," she said, admiring her handiwork, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder. "That will keep it neat under the robes."

It looked good. I pulled her hand to my mouth and kissed her palm. "I am glad you came."

She grinned at me in the mirror. "You seriously thought I would miss this?"

I grinned back. "I should have known."

She helped me into the heavy state robes, and we made our way to the holding area, where Neb was waiting to escort me onto the stage. From there he could watch the audience; after Rhodes and that thrown arrow, he wasn't taking any chances. I would be exposed and Neb was very fast.

Pam pulled out her phone and snapped a few pictures. "For Rory," she explained. "She says knock 'em dead."

Smiling at the joke, I said, "When do you leave?"

"Soon afterwards." She slipped her phone away, took my hand and bowed over it, brushing my knuckles against her forehead. A kiss would mess up her lipstick. "My king. I'll be in the front row with Oskar."

I squeezed her hand. "Thank you, Pamela."

Shortly after she left Alabama swept in, her second behind her. We exchanged nods. Two of the Pythoness' attendants arrived next, and Jephson, talking into his radio.

"Everything's set, boss," he said, stationing himself near us.

All eyes turned to Quinn when he came in, bare-chested and wearing loose purple pants. His lip curled when he saw Jephson.

"Wolf. You'll work for anybody, won't you?"

"Anyone who lets me dress like a grown-up, yeah," Jephson retorted. "Shirt buttons too complicated for you?"

Quinn got right in his face and Jephson stiffened, muttering: "You dumb fuck."

I had no idea what had his hackles up. Jephson usually kept his cool in a crisis. The tiger looked from Jephson to me, a challenge in his eyes as he growled, "Rein in your wolf, Northman."

All the vampires in the room stilled at his blatant disrespect. Lazily I said, "Is your majesty too complicated for you too, tiger?"

Unfortunately, I inhaled as I spoke and his scent hit me like a slap: Sookie, sex. He reeked of it. It cut deep, but I didn't flinch, keeping my eyes on his until he looked away.

"Your majesty," he gritted out. "Leash your wolf or I'll have him removed."

"I think not, pussycat," said a hoarse voice. "I am in charge here."

The Pythoness trained her unnerving milky stare on us from the doorway. Swallowing, Quinn bowed deeply.

"Your lack of shirt tempts me to rip your heart out," she said as one of her attendants lead her into the room. "Go change. Don't make me wait."

He sidled past her and disappeared, and the Pythoness moved to speak with Alabama.

Jephson growled softly and muttered, "That prick gives twoeys a bad name."

"You don't like him," Neb said quietly.

"No shit. I beat him once, and the jackass never got over it."

Neb eyed him. "Impressive. You beat the bear too, I hear."

The wolf grinned widely, no attempt at modesty. "Big they are, harder they fall." Looking between me and Neb, who was shorter than he was, he added, "Guess you know that."

"True, size is nothing without intelligence," Neb said seriously. "That is what makes Eric formidable: he has both."

"Don't sell yourself short, Neb," I joked.

He almost smiled, almost. "I never said you were more intelligent than I am."

The Pythoness interrupted us, barking, "You know what to do, Louisiana?"

I bowed, deeply. "Yes, Ancient One."

Her eyes drifted over me, then snapped onto my left arm. The scar from Rory's blood prickled underneath the heavy robes.

"Your capacity to inspire loyalty extends beyond our race I see," she said drily, jerking her head at Jephson but I knew she didn't mean the wolf. She gestured impatiently to her attendants. "Let us begin."

Unfortunately Quinn arrived in the nick of time. The suit was an improvement though; it cut down on the scent.

I looked for Pam once I was on the stage and gave her a nod. Then I joined Neb in scanning the audience. Sookie was at the back, something I ignored as best I could. The ceremony was short and I was first to approach the Pythoness, who was sitting centre stage on a red velvet throne.

"Kneel," she commanded, and I didn't hesitate, dropping to my knees. "By the power of the Amun council, I grant you permission to rule the state of Louisiana as you see fit. Let this seal be the mark of a wise king."

She leaned forward, slipping the heavy gold disc over my bowed head. Before I could rise, she broke with expected protocol and gripped my shoulders.

I froze and the ballroom went still, vampire still. Her cold, rough lips brushed my cheek, and her words whispered like dead leaves in my ear, spoken in Old Norse.

"Don't fight the tide. A wise man waits for it to turn."

As she released me I looked up, startled, and saw her eyes flick to Quinn, standing stoically at the back of the stage.

Ah. That made her subject plain. I nodded minutely, trusting she would sense it, and got gracefully to my feet. I returned to Neb's side, hiding a smile. It seemed the ancient seer was no more fond of certain big cats than I was. Her words ran through my mind as I watched Alabama's investment. The tiger would trip himself up, I didn't care how. I was patient enough to wait.

The Pythoness didn't kiss Zola's cheek, or whisper in her ear.

Once I got off the stage Pam and Oskar joined me to accept congratulations. Russell was the first king to come over. Winking, he said he would send my coronation gift to my room. Bartlett, not far behind him, gave me a deep nod of respect and, unusually for him, flashed me a broad grin too.

Pam made the rest of the ass-kissing bearable with her whispered asides. She was particularly scathing about Tennessee's suit, and his second's rather lurid green dress. All too soon it was time for her to leave, Neb escorting her to the airport and her flight back to New Orleans. A blood-eye as they called them now, taking off and landing in the dark.

Meanwhile Oskar and I made our way to the heavily guarded conference room where the Amun council were meeting. Oskar was taking up the seat for Louisiana tonight, and I was here as his king and sponsor.

Inside the Pythoness sat at the head of a long table, her attendants standing behind her. Along the sides of the table were the eight standing council members, and the member for Missouri who was stepping down. Quinn brought in an ornate goblet and a pledging knife and the Pythoness dismissed him with a scowl.

Then there were only vampires.

The old crone – I smirked internally at Rory's name for the seer – made quick work of freeing the Missouri representative from his pledge to the council. Once he left, Oskar stepped forward, made the appropriate responses, took the knife and extended his wrist over the goblet.

His blood dripped thickly into it. Passing it and the knife along the table, each council member added theirs. The Pythoness spoke the required incantation. The goblet circulated again, each vampire dipping a finger to the knuckle and sucking it clean.

It was mostly symbolic: the amount of blood exchanged would fade fast, but it did give members an insight into each other's moods and loyalties while it lasted.

Oskar took his place next to Iowa and I left them to it, glad to delegate that burden to someone else. Goro and Salvatore were waiting outside to escort me back to our suite.

Neb returned from his errand, confirming Pam was safely on her way just as Russell's gift arrived.

It wasn't something I could add to the pile of trinkets and luxuries that had been arriving since the ceremony. The half dozen pairs of hand-stitched Italian leather shoes from Bartlett, who had the same problem with large feet as I did. The cowboy boots and a Stetson from Stan, who had a sense of humour somewhere. And the large bouquet of tiger lilies from Bardulf, who clearly didn't give a fuck if he insulted me.

No, Russell's gift walked gracefully into the lounge under her own steam, in a red dress and heels.

"Good evening, your majesty," said the Ethiopian, after a deep curtsy. She held out a box. "With Russell's compliments."

As I took it, Salvatore showed fang and said in Italian, "It's good to be the king."

"Call the boy a donor," Neb said to Goro. "You haven't been feeding him enough."

Goro grinned. "Can you hold down the fort, old one?"

Neb said placidly, "Of course. You may feed too, if you wish."

The box held a very expensive Cartier watch. Gold to match your hair, said Russell's note. Enjoy the woman.

Why not? I gestured towards my room. Once we were inside, I put the watch down, and reached up to untie my hair.

"Shall I do that, your majesty?" she asked.

I looked at her. "Eric. You have called me that before." In Kansas, when I was with Freyda.

"Of course. Eric. Sit, please?" I didn't know her name or care enough to ask it.

I sat on the bed, and she knelt behind me to undo my braids while I stared at the closet, wondering if somewhere, in another hotel room not a million miles away, Sookie and Quinn were...

Well, she wouldn't be undoing his braids.

The woman saved me from riding that unpleasant train of thought any further by reaching over my shoulder and running a hand down my chest. Flicking my jacket open, she slipped it off my shoulders and went to hang it on the waiting hanger, coming back to kneel behind me again.

"You are tense," she said softly, and began kneading my shoulders. I closed my eyes, willing myself into the moment, concentrating on the warmth of her hands, the rhythmic sensations. I imagined her blood in my mouth, her body beneath me.

It was enough. I stood, slowly so as not to startle her, took her hand and tugged her to her feet in front of the closet.

"That is a lovely dress." I reached for the clasp on her shoulder, and her eyes glowed with eagerness.

"Yes. A gift from Russell. He is very generous."

The material fell to the floor. Her slim body was bare beneath it, long ebony limbs smooth and graceful. She stepped out of her heels and the dress in one fluid move, and knelt to undo my shoes. I sat down again so she could slip them off, watching as she placed them neatly on the floor of the closet. She was completely at ease, completely exposed. She really was spectacular.

I pushed away a longing for a rounder figure, for hair like sunlight.

She undid my shirt next, her warm fingers lingering over my shoulders as she slipped it off. When she turned away and stretched to hang it up, I admired her hips, her ass, the curve of her back. I let my fangs drop.

I stood so she could unclasp my belt, undo my pants. As she lowered them, her fingertips caressed my thighs, ghosting down the muscles. I stepped out of the pants and she folded them neatly, turning to the closet again to hang them.

This time I followed, wrapping my arms around her from behind. Pressing myself against her warm back, I nipped at her shoulder. She leaned back into me and hummed in pleasure as my hand found her breast. With the other hand I stroked down over her belly, seeking the warmth between her legs. I focused on the feel of her under my fingertips, the smell of her skin.

After she gasped out her first orgasm I carried her to the bed. Shining with sweat, her flesh was dark against the sheets, against mine. A pleasing contrast. Her skin was soft, silky under my hands, and I was reminded of Tariq's chess set, light and dark pieces worn smooth with age and use. I kept her writhing, panting out my name, until I bit into her neck and found my release as her rich, pleasure-soaked blood filled my mouth.

It wouldn't do to return Russell's exquisite gift damaged. I healed the punctures with blood from my tongue, and rolled over onto my back.

"Do you have time for more?" she said breathlessly. She was smiling, teeth white against her face, her eyes closed.

I looked at the clock. "No."

"Damn." She opened her eyes. "I'm free tomorrow."

I sat up, looking down at her. "Moonlighting on Russell?"

She chuckled. "This is the moonlighting. I have a day job. I only do this for Russell now and again."

"Ah." Like a rare vintage, kept for special occasions.

"May I freshen up?"

"Yes." When she came out of the bathroom, I went in to shower. She was dressed when I came out.

"Room 611. Call any time," she said, slipping on her heels.

I held out a handful of bills from my wallet.

She shook her head. "Russell paid for my time. And he pays well."

I didn't withdraw it. "Buy yourself another dress."

She smiled, shaking her head. "It was my pleasure."

After she left, I sat on the bed in a towel, knowing full well I wouldn't call her.

True, I was more … relaxed. But the bed smelt of the wrong woman and I was already thinking of Sookie, trying to tease more meaning from the seer's cryptic words.

...


Footnote:

Rosta (brawl, fight) and Gramr (wrath) are Old Norse names for dogs, from Viking Lady's excellent website. They sounded like names Eric would pick.