Alrighty then, New chapter.
I'm going to try to keep giving quality work while my muse is till high, that way you guys can get the most out of this story.
This one wrote itself, and is a tad longer because I'm slowly but surely getting a handle on Pam's personality, and very soon you'll be seeing the other characters.
Thank you for the reviews last chapter, and read and enjoy!
Pamela sat in the back office of Fangtasia, scrutinizing the paperwork in front of her with a critical eye. She was the sole proprietor, and the singular owner of her club so naturally all of the finances and legal tedium fell to her. She loathed paperwork, but she considered it a necessary evil. She couldn't entrust anyone else with the job because she adhered to a strict no dependency policy. None of the humans or the vampires beneath her were reliable. There was no one living or dead that she trusted implicitly-especially where Fangtasia was concerned. One flaw that was secreted in every living thing-whether they be human or vampire-was that every sentient creature that is able to draw breath is inherently self interested. Self-motivation was a drive; a compulsion that Pam understood intimately. She had no qualms in admitting she was self-absorbed, vain and over bearingly conceited-however, being aware of these qualities in herself made them easy to recognize them in other people. Although arrogance looked good on her; and added to her devastatingly sexy appeal-it ruined everyone else, and made it impossible to trust those around her.
The first rule Eric taught her about being a vampire, was to never trust what wasn't guarunteed.
No one was guarunteed.
Ever.
For a vampire there was only one person they could trust without reservation, and that was their progney.
Pam did not have a progney so as a general rule, she refused to trust anyone.
So far it was working wonders.
It was working so well in fact, that when she came across an inconsistency in the revenue Fangtasia was bringing in, and the current money stored away within her lovely facility she wasn't even surprised at the blatant incongruency. After sifting through the ream of papers on her desk again just to be certain she wasn't seeing things-Pam was able to estimate exactly how much money she should have, and compare that figure to how much money she actually did have.
$10,000 was missing.
It wasn't a sizable sum. Hardly anything to gripe over.
To be perfectly honest 10k was a fucking joke to her.
Pam spent more than that dress shopping.
No, the amount was not the problem-What really pissed her off was that someone had the balls to steal from her. What inbred pile of excrement thought they were clever enough to pull this off without her noticing? Very few people were willing to cross her, and even fewer were subtle about their ambitions. The paper does not lie though. According to the evidence in front of her, a certain individual among her staff had decided to incite her wrath, and abbreviate their life span to a scare few days, or a fleeting number of hours-she thought darkly, her mind already analyzing the possible suspects in her head.
Pam was not in a charitable mood.
Someone had severely underestimated her, and she was curious to find out who dared to defile Fangtasia with their unecessary bullshit.
A long suffering sigh escaped her lips, as she leaned back in her chair, her glacier blue eyes staring above her at the ceiling. "Motherfucker." She exhaled the curse word with a grimace, not liking the conclusions she was drawing in her head.
The culprit had to be a vampire.
No human working under her had the nerve, or the right balance of skill and cocky fucking stupidity needed to make this stunt possible. No human would even make the attempt. A vampire on the other hand, might choose to undermine her. It was plausible that one of her undead employees succumbed to the insane desire to usurp her. The question was-which one? She had several vampires working the poles at night, to keep her customers entertained. It could be any of them. There was LongShadow who worked the bar, and then there was Damien who delivered synthetic blood and alcohol to Fangtasia on Thursdays.
It was going to be a pain in the ass discovering which one needed to die.
"Ginger!" Her voice carried into the other room where she knew her human plaything would be flouncing around. Every human that worked for her assumed a cliche stripper name in place of their birth name. All of them were equally terrible. Ginger was just another name that would not roll easily off the toungue.
Coming when called like the well trained pet she was Ginger scurried into the room, almost tripping over herself as she came to a stop in front of Pam's desk. The human woman adjusted her obnoxiously short skirt before demurely dipping her head at Pam. "Yes?" The question came out hesitantly, begging Pam to be gentle with her request.
The vampire smirked.
She could smell Ginger's fear, and it was the best kind of aphrodisiac.
"I want you to assemble the girls later tonight. I'd like a word with them." Pam explained herself shortly and succintly, not bothering to elaborate on why she wanted Ginger to gather the human girls working in her employ. Clearly, a vampire was responsible for the current situation, but who's to say a human wasn't guilty by association. Every vampire working under her had their preference in Fangtasia's men and women. If Pam could figure out which humans were acting out of the ordinary-than she would be able to discern which vampire was at fault here as well.
"Of course Pam." Ginger smiled tenatively. "Anything else?"
Her nostrils flared.
She could still taste Ginger's fear in the air, but now their was another more potent smell filtering to her nose as well. Pam eyed the fidgeting woman in front of her speculatively, heady from the heavy scent of arousal coming from her. It was nearing dawn so she needed to sleep soon, but having an attractive woman nearby that was ready and willing to satisfy her served to wet her appetite, even though Ginger's body was territory she'd thoroughly explored countless times before.
Pam smirked devilishly, her fangs protracting with a quiet click. "I could use a nightcap before I retire for the day."
Rampant desire and fear filled the human's gaze.
It was hard to tell which won out.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
The next night Pam climbed out of her light tight coffin in the Fangtasia basement feeling overly smug and satisfied with herself. Decadence was always a primitive part of her nature. It felt good to assauge some of her less savory urges, even if it was with a human. Luckily, Ginger was an experienced human so Pam was able to derive a decent amount of pleasure from the encounter. Sex with a vampire was infinitely better, but also dreadful because it either left her content and exhausted, or it drained her completely-living her a limp frustrated ragdoll for several days. With vampires, like so many other things sexual prowess was determined by age. Humans couldn't hope to compete in bed, but for now Pam was fine with her current arrangement. She didn't need to fuck like a champion every night.
And now that her bodily needs were taken care of she had business to attend to.
She was going to rip someone a new asshole.
While making her way upstairs, she paused halfway to the top, and withdrew her phone from her pocket just as it began to buzz. Queenie flashed insistently across the Caller I.D. and Pam had to wonder if it was worth the effort to answer the phone. She hated this Bitch. She was without a doubt the most exasperating vampire to ever grace the South with her intolerable presence. After 3 rings she sighed morosely, and flicked the screen tab to the side, answering the incoming call. "Pam, speaking."
"Pamela, How fortuitous, you answered your phone." The rich airy voice made her skin crawl and Pam rolled her eyes at the fake pleasantries she was forced to participate in.
Ettiquette demanded it.
Logic dictated it.
Survival depended on it.
So she did what came naturally to her, and lied her ass off with the most sincere voice she could muster. "Of course. I'm positively giddy at the opportunity to talk to you again." The words tumbled out of her lips easily enough, as she recalled the advice of her Maker. Eric had reinforced the idea of obstinance-always reminding her not to back down from anything. But he also taught her to pick and choose her battles. Living to fight another day was more important than dying in the heat of the moment. Sometimes that meant sequestering herself to a cause or a person she did not care for, and staying with them till a better opportunity presented itself.
Queen Sophie-Anne happened to be one of the people she did not care for.
"No need to be facetious Pamela." Her monarch rebuked her gently, purposefully using her full name to patronize her. "I'm well aware of how enthusiastic you are about my calls. However, I did not call to talk about your disdain for humanity, and the population in general. I called because some of my contacts have informed me of trouble brewing."
"What kind of trouble?" Pam asked carefully, a frown creeping across her face.
"A nest is growing in Bon Temps. I don't have to tell you how potentially disastrous that is." The sonorous voice lilted in contempt, and for once Pam could understand why. Bon Temps was a tiny Southern town filled with gossiping self righteous assholes, and a nauseating amount of ignorance. News traveled like wildfire in that sort of setting, and allowing a nest to fester there would be inconvenient for everyone. A nest tended to breed crazy vampires, and crazy vampires prowling the streets of a small backwater town like Bon Temps was a mess she was not willing to clean up.
In her opinion, even baby Vamps ranked above a Nest Vampire.
Nest vampires didn't give a damn about Vampire law.
They didn't care about the edicts binding them to night, and private seclusion.
The only thing a nest vampire was cognizant of was: Eating, fucking, and killing.
In other words instant gratification.
"I know what the reprecussions of leaving a nest alone are." What a delicate situation she was in. Fangtasia needed her attention, and Bon Temps was about to be rudely introduced to the most incriminating aspect of vampire nature. Being a vampire afforded her many gifts, and exemplary qualities-however, it did not let her be in two places at once. Where the hell was Eric when she needed him? At times like this, Pam missed him desperately. Handling the Queen of Louisana alone was getting old. Without Eric, she was put in unpleasant circumstances where she had to plead, and formally inquire to accomplish anything. Pam was not fond of asking for things. Giving someone dominion over her was not just painfully awkward-it was galvanizing.
How did Eric do it?
Her Maker even in the presence of royalty was able to keep complete sovereignity over himself.
He was the only one capable of humbling her.
And he was the only one truly deserving of her deference.
Her pride was not an easy thing to swallow.
But swallow it she did.
A futile proposal came to mind to deal with both problems ripening in her territory. "I must ask- Is there anyway I can delay making a trip out to that disgusting swamp town for a day or so? There is an internal affair I must deal with in Fangtasia."
"No Pamela. You are the Sheriff of area five and this needs your immediate attention." Sophie-Anne spoke slowly as if explaining things to a petulant child.
Pam was just over three hundred years in age.
She wasn't ancient like her queen, but she was not a fucking twelve year old.
Being so obviously dismissed did not sit well with her.
She forced herself to respond in a respectful manner anyways. "As you wish, my queen." She murmured, her voice carefully netural. Throwing a tantrum, and giving Sophie the satisfaction of getting under her skin would not win her any points in the mature vampire field.
She could not win for losing.
"Wonderful." Sophie-Anne purred from the other end. "Report to me when you have results."
There was a click and the line went dead.
She glared at the infernal device in her hand.
Then Pam unceremoniously smashed her phone against the wall.
"Manipulative bitch." She muttered under her breath as she continued her ascent up the stairs-leaving the remains of her cellphone haphazardly at the bottom of the steps.
Vampire politics would be the end of her.
As she reached the precipice of the steps, and let herself into the main room of Fangtasia where everyone was setting up for the night crowd-she began to meticulously plan her next move. She would have to leave Ginger in charge of the club for the night, because finding this damnable nest would take precious time, and uprooting it would take even longer. Depending on how volatile the nest was she would either have to disband it, or systematically destroy every vampire inside of it. Absentmindedly she circled around the bar, brushing past Long Shadow so she could get to her office, and prepare for the long night ahead. She expected to run into at least four vampires under the same roof, and at least one of those vampires to rival her in age.
Which meant that she was going to be outnumbered, outclassed and at a severe disadvantage because Bon Temps was not a battlefield she was terribly familiar with.
"Let's even these odds, shall we?" Pam opened the door to her office, and immediately busied herself with preparations. At vamp speed she changed into something more suitable for a public outing than her sleepwear, and then she set herself to the task of compiling weapons. Her choices were limited. Under Eric's guidance, Pam became a competent weapon's mistress, but most of the weapons in her office were too large and unsightly for her current needs. She preferred discretion, and felt that the situation at hand required a certain finesse. Stakes were a girl's best friend, and the most convenient weapon at her disposal. She could take her crossbow, and use the stakes as arrows for a quiet and surreptitious victory.
Or she could use tonight as a therapeutic excercise and viciously stab whatever twitched in her direction.
Both ideas had their own appeal.
A knock at her door distracted her from her bloody reverie.
"What now?" She huffed, half turning towards her office entrance.
Ginger poked her head through the door. "Sorry to disturb you, but it's time for the club to open. Do you still want to see the girls?"
Sighing dismally at the unwelcome reminder, Pam shook her head. "No, tell them to carry on with their duties. I have things to take care of outside of the club tonight." She grabbed her leather jacket from the coat rack in the corner of the room, and slipped a stake into one of the inner pockets so it would be well obscured from the observant eye. Then she slid the jacket on over her v-neck, completing her ensemble for the activites this evening. With her preparations done, There was only one thing left to do. Wrenching the top drawer of her desk open, Pam withdrew a set of keys, and threw them at Ginger who caught them clumsily, her eyes wide "I need you to lock up tonight."
Pamela adjusted her jacket one more time, assessing herself in a nearby mirror, before waltzing past a startled Ginger. "Take care of my club or I will end you." She warned the human woman, sending a threatening look over her shoulder before leaving the office behind.
Ginger gaped at her retreating back, the dancer's mind was encompassed with one ephemeral thought.
Oh FUCK.
Pam chuckled as the delicious scent of fear wafted to her again. Humans were so delightfully predictable, she mused as she walked through the velvet red door barricading Fangtasia from the outside world. Fear was a human sentiment that, like all human sentiments lost it's intrinsic value over the years. A vampire was allowed to be terrified in the beginning, but given an abundant amount of time to appropriate their emotions, and dissect them-fear became an apparition of a past life that no longer existed.
Wasting time worrying over something that had not happened yet, and might not ever happen was insanity-insanity that Pam refused to partake in.
Her taste for the mentally deranged diverged down a different path.
A path filled with nest vampires it seemed.
"If I were a bloodsucking psychopath, where would I be?" She meditated on it, ruminating about the hotspots around Bon Temp as she walked leisurely. Nest vampires were creatures of impulse. They would be attracted to places where they could get drunk off of the smell of human blood thriving warmly just beneath human flesh, and could revel in the cacophony of pulsating hearts. In a small town like Bon Temps the places where humans gathered in large numbers was depressingly small.
"I'm gonna end up hunting these fuckers down at a Wal-Mart." She told the air despairingly.
Sending one last rueful glance at the sky where she knew her Maker was laughing at her, Pamela tore off down the road at vampire speed, anxious to bring this matter to a close.
She had better things to do than going dumpster diving for crazy vampires in hillbilly hell.
And that's the end until the next update.
R and R!
Oh yes, and Breathesgirl Tara is eventually going to be Pam's progeny, but if it helps I'm rewriting the first couple of seasons, and adding my own twists and turns so Tara won't really be the same as the Tara in the t.v. series. No one will be exactly the same as they were in True blood because no one will experience the exact same trauma as they did on the show that shaped them.
