V.

[3]

It felt… overwhelming. I was back home. He didn't seem to hate me for the things I'd said and done. I felt no malice from him at all. No malice, really, from any of them. Though Andor was still very angry at me, but I honestly couldn't blame him, no matter how feisty I could act. No, it was like a miracle to be home and have it seem as if it still was my home. I cried for a while but gradually felt weak from hunger. I was still on five to six bottles a night and had had only four.

After I got myself back under control, I walked over to my dayroom. I turned on the lights. I was surprised to find that my Christmas cactuses, African violets and orchids were not only still alive but were blooming. Heavy floor to ceiling blackout drapes had been installed to cover the bay window but the drapes had been installed so that the plants would get sun during the day. Clearly Pam's thoughtfulness.

Rosie came out from under the daybed and stretched. She looked at me curiously, sniffing the air. She jumped onto the daybed and started kneading. I walked over to my desk and ran my fingertips across my things. I turned and walked back to my dressing area, with its large closet. I ran my fingers over my hanging clothes, all the happy colors. I had worn black for a year, partly because it made me feel safer and partly because I had been in mourning for losing everything. My eye lit on the red sundress I'd worn that last summer party at Amelia and Bert's. All the lively colors in my closet... I'd spent the better part of the year trying not to feel so alive inside still and worn only black. It was odd to see part of my former life so clearly defined by something as simple as what hung in my closet.

I turned to look at all the photographs on my dresser, including one of me with Bronwyn sitting on my lap out in her garden on a sunny September afternoon. She was laughing so hard as I tickled her. So many of the photos, of her, of Hunter, Amelia, Ahmed and Alla and some of the girls at the school in Miran Shah, were taken in the daytime. Realizing that I would never go back to Pakistan had been one of my many sorrows. Being a vampire was all but incompatible not just with the travel constraints but with the culture there. I ran my finger over the little handmade frame with one of the pictures of me with a little girl name Raniya. That part of my life, well, really my life, was over. It was no easier to accept a year later. I looked at the picture of Bronwyn. I wondered whether Amelia would feel safe having her play with me like that now. Even just thinking that I'd gotten hungry hugging Hunter was upsetting to me. Should I trust myself with Bronwyn, I wondered?

I noticed that my jewelry box had been moved. I opened it to look inside. Everything looked as if it was still there except for the fact that the bullet slugs that I had saved from long ago, the ones that Eric had taken for me, were neatly lined up next to one another in the top section now, instead of stashed in the bottom section as they had been. I had kept the bullets from times in which he'd been shot protecting me. I wondered if he had found them or if Pam had. I touched them softly. I had finally done something so great to protect him. Maybe we were even. But I didn't really think so. I wasn't sure there was a 'making things even' after all the stuff I had pulled or put him through.

I walked back to the kitchen and took two bottles of True Blood O negative out of the refrigerator and heated them in the microwave. I took off my jacket and put it over the back of one of the chairs at the table. When the bottles were warm, I took them back to the dayroom and sat a distance away from Rosie. I slipped off my boots and sat cross-legged. She started kneading again and purred. I reached out and touched her head gingerly and she continued to purr. I rubbed her cheeks and eventually she came and sat in my lap. Maybe Eric had been right. Maybe she had just been startled that night because I smelled different. It had to have been a shock after thirteen years with me that I smelled… dead. But she'd never minded Eric, after all. She seemed almost to smile at me, sitting in my lap and looking up at my face. I picked up the book that I had been reading when I had died, which someone, I guess Pam, had put back on the coffee table. Ayn Rand's We the Living. The irony of that title had struck me so many times after I'd died. I had finished it in Paris, during days in which I was still brokenhearted and in total despair, after buying a new copy there. I opened the book and looked for a specific passage. I sighed as I found the page where Kira Argounova had spun my undead head around. I traced my fingers across the line.

"When a person dies, one does not stop loving him, does one?"

I closed the book and finished the bottled blood.

After Rosie got down, I walked over to my desk, sat down and turned on my laptop. It was a strange feeling to sit at my own desk for the first time in a year. For the first time since my life had entered the tunnel of endless night. With a sigh, I opened my browser and thought of Cadel figuring out my passwords and being clever enough to hack into my bank account and email accounts to figure out where I'd gone. I'd changed the passwords and linked the account to a new email address on the French Yahoo site before I'd even left Atlanta for Paris. But Cadel had been too clever for me. I'd changed the password from Hunter's name and birthday to Browyn's, albeit with her name spelled backwards. I couldn't believe he'd figured it out, and kept it a secret. He was really such a good brother I thought to myself. I'd lost so little in comparison to what he or Stefan, Eric and Andor had when they were turned. But still… I had lost so much to me. Yet, I thought that actually Eric and Cadel seemed to understand that.

I logged into the new email account, Solsken_Sookie, which I hadn't checked in over a week, rather than checking my old email account. I could see in my mail program, which was still churning away, that my old account was jammed with mail, well over a thousand and still downloading. Solsken_Sookie only had several concerned emails from Chloë and Anaïs, Mathilde's twin great-granddaughters, checking to see if I was okay for Mathilde. It would be dawn soon in Amsterdam. I thought of walking along the Prinsengracht, looking in galleries and shops and of the metalsmith's shop where Mathilde had sent me to obtain the finely graded silver we used to make my silver cored stakes. It seemed like a lifetime ago, making those stakes at Samhain. I sent a short email to Chloë and Anaïs, letting them know that I was well, and was now in New Orleans. I told them they to give my regards to Mathilde and to tell her that my trip to Buenos Aires had been successful and that I'd be in touch with her soon. Then I emailed my building manager, Yves, in Paris to inquire if things were still okay with my apartment. I'd been away for a month now.

I stopped myself from logging out and erasing the cache and the cookies and all traces of where I'd been. That would have been force of habit. It didn't matter because I'd already told Eric that I'd been thinking about living in Amsterdam instead of Paris. Besides, Cadel clearly would try to find me no matter where I went. I was so good at running away and starting over. Although the problem was that wherever I went, I was still there, with all my problems, all my sorrows. But I already knew from the last time that I couldn't leave myself, or my heart, behind. Of course this time I didn't just leave for myself. I'd also left for all of them.

With a heavy sigh, I rose and picked up the empty bottles to take them to the kitchen. As I rinsed them and put them into the recycling bin, the familiar and unwelcome urge overtook me more suddenly than usual. The surge of desire, the other hunger, just seemed to ignite explosively inside me. It was so intense, much stronger than usual. Maybe because of the prospect that being home presented for indulging it. Well that and the fact that Eric's scent was all over everything even on this side of our rooms. From the moment I'd seen him I'd been fighting it inside, especially once I knew he'd take me back. I worried it could just spin out of control and I wasn't about to let it. I had such bad memories of that one night after I'd been turned and the way I'd behaved.

I quickly pushed back the sleeve on my left arm. I opened the drawer with the knives, took out a good-sized carving knife and plunged it deep into my forearm, gasping with the pain of it. I withdrew it and focused on the pain, focused on ignoring the urges and desires, using my pain to master them. Self-control, I reminded myself. I will exhibit perfect self-control. I held the knife hovering over my arm as I watched the wound seal up. And waited, waited… No, it was still like a fire coursing in me, still messing with my mind. With a growl this time I dug the knife into my wrist and made two deep score marks, slashing deep and parallel lines down my forearm, hissing as I dragged the blade through my flesh. It would have been so much easier with a good straight razor or box cutter. I had to go buy one. I clenched my teeth as I carved the rune Mannaz, into my arm. It was my favorite. Focus, I told myself. Just find your focus. You don't need the other thing. Be yourself. Be true. If I wanted sensation, there was plenty to be had with this knife, here, now, in my arm. Sensation I could control.

As I started to make the fourth score mark to complete the symbol, an iron hand grabbed my right hand.

[4]

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

I looked up at Eric standing over me. He'd thrown his jacket on the table and grabbed my hand to stop me, moving so fast he was like lightning. I opened my mouth to speak and then realized I'd also punctured my lip and could taste my blood in my mouth.

It's how I control it.

Control what?

The urges. The lust, the anger, the violence. Especially the lust. Sexual, blood, whatever. It's how I control it. It distracts me, so that I don't act inappropriately.

He ripped the knife out of my hand and angrily threw it into the sink. He grabbed my head by the ponytail and pulled it down to make my face tip up to meet his. With eyes blazing with anger he said,

"You will never hurt yourself like this again. Are we clear? Never. I forbid it. I absolutely forbid it. And don't you give me any of your crap that you don't have to do what I say. As your husband, your sire, your king, your friend or whatever the hell it takes to get you to listen to me, I forbid you to ever do this or anything similar to yourself ever again. Do you understand?"

He looked so angry, his eyes glowing and wide.

"Well, then what am I supposed to do, Eric? It's the one thing that's worked. Even if the year is up, the problem is still here. I hate what's inside me. And I won't let it rule my mind, I just won't."

"This is why you look the way you do? So isolated and self-contained. You're hurting yourself? How often have you been doing this? And for how long?"

I didn't want to reply.

He spun me around into the kitchen wall, pressing me hard against it.

"How long have you been doing this, Sookie?" he growled at me. He looked so angry.

My eyes filled with tears. I was already in trouble again? He pressed me even more firmly into the wall and I started to tremble a bit.

"How long?!"

"Since that night. That night when I was so horrible to you. I had been so awful and angry. I hurt you with what I said. I hated myself for it, hated what was in me. After I took the shower I still wanted more sex and I realized you were right that it was just irrational. And I was so angry. I was just all id and not… me. I hated it and felt like I wanted to just cut it out of me. So I just got a knife and I cut myself. And then I stabbed my thigh a whole bunch of times. It was so painful but somehow it just seemed like it snapped me back to thinking clearly. To being myself. I watched it heal then I did it several more times. It was like it focused me. I could see how I was behaving, and that I had to stop. That was when I decided that I needed to leave. Because I didn't want to hurt you or Hunter or Pam or... anyone. I thought that maybe if I went away I could just wait out the year in a place where I couldn't hurt anyone I loved. So I got my passport and IDs and my bankcard and put them inside my book and went downstairs with you. Then I glamoured Pam so I could leave. And since then, I've done it all year. I use a razor or a switchblade or anything sharp or pointed. Wherever I went, I'd just buy a blade. It's how I deal. And it works. I do it every night, whenever those feelings hit me. It kept me safe. It kept me focused and in control. It helped me follow the terms of our agreement. Whenever I was tempted, I'd just cut myself or stab myself. It always worked. I could make it as bad as I needed to, to make it work. I'd carve runes, names, whatever seemed right. I did it every single night, sometimes several times a night. Whatever I needed. I just wanted to keep my word. And to keep… myself. To not give into it. Not lose who I was. Who I am."

Eric's eyes were no longer red. They were dark blue and filled with tears. He looked like he was etched in stone, so still and silent, as he looked down at me. And then a tear ran down his cheek.

I gasped a little then l glanced away, unable to hold his gaze, unable to even bear to tap into how he felt. I was making him cry. I had never made Eric cry. How horrible was I, I wondered? How horrible? I broke down and started to cry. I felt so ashamed.

In a voice that sounded like he was grasping for control he said,

"Well, you are not going to do it any more. I want your word and I want it right now, Sookie."

"Then what am I supposed to do, Eric? I can't…"

"Your word," he said cutting me off.

"I can't! I can't give you my word if I know I'll break it. I need some way to…"

"You will learn to control it by talking and blowing off steam in ways that do not involve causing yourself harm. I will help you. No matter what it is, I will help you. You will not do this ever again."

"But it heals. What does it matter if it heals?"

"Your mind is not going to heal from thinking that every time you have any negative thought that you should just carve yourself up. That you should hurt yourself for what you are? And some of what you're doing this to yourself for isn't even negative… I want your word and I want it right now. "

"I can't… I just can't. I don't know what else to do. I don't want to lose myself or…"

"You have not lost yourself. You are still you."

He hoisted me up the wall slightly and pressed his hips into mine as he spoke. I gasped as my fangs ran down and I felt an incredible lurch of desire seize me. My nostrils flared as I inhaled his scent.

"Ooohhhhhh," I gasped, closing my eyes, gritting my teeth and fighting the feelings. My fangs were down and I wanted to bite him, fuck him, get lost in him. I clenched my fists digging my nails deep into the palms of my hands. "Let me go, let me down! Please, Eric…" I started to struggle to get away from him. Instead, he pulled my legs up just above his hips and thrust against my pubic region. It was like an electric charge.

"Do you really think I'm going to let you go? I am not hurting you. I'm just holding you. What is wrong with this? This is some of what you were feeling before, when you started, yes? What is wrong with this feeling, here, now, between us? You are not angry, you are not confused. You are mine and I am yours. We have been apart and we both have desire. What is wrong with this and why would you want this feeling associated with carving into yourself with a knife? Why would you want to associate sex with pain? How is that a good idea for you? Can you tell me?" He looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Because it isn't me. This isn't me. The way I feel is so… animalistic, feral. It isn't how I felt about you. I don't just want to make love. I want to fuck. I want to bite. I feel like an animal. I really do. And I hate it. I just hate it."

"You feel like a vampire, Sookie. It's part of what you are but only a part. And I want you to stop punishing yourself for it."

"You are not like that. Not with me. And I don't want to be like that with you. I love you. And I don't want to feel like some animal that just wants to bite and fuck you. I hate feeling like this, especially about you."

"How is wanting those things mutually exclusive with loving me? I feel like this a very large part of the time. I am a predator. You are my mate. I love you. I wish to be gentle with you. Faithful to you. I wish to give you pleasure and not to hurt you. But I want to bite you, fuck you, now and before you were changed, basically all the time. I hungered for you. To look at you, smell you, feel you against me, even just to think of you, would make me want to bite you, fuck you. I could fuck you for hours. If we lived farther north, in the winter I could fuck you for days. But I control myself so as not to hurt you. Even now, when I don't need to be as careful. I temper myself so that it is not all I am and certainly not all I do or feel. But I'm a vampire and we're predators. I do not hunt, unless I am forced to do so. But I can, and I've enjoyed it. Just as you enjoyed hunting Ocella, whether you realized it or not. This is what we are and some of how we feel. You will learn to control it, tame it. But only if you own it. Now give me your word you will never do that to yourself again," he said thrusting at me again.

It was like his voice just resonated inside me. I gasped and turned away, twisting myself as if to get away but reveling in the sensation of my body against his as much as I hated how it affected me. I clenched my jaw and wouldn't reply to him. My nostrils flared as I inhaled his scent yet again. I wanted him so badly. I wanted to taste him. I bit my tongue, with my fangs, hard. I tried to remember the sensation of the knife slicing into my arm, the sound of slicing into my flesh. He seemed to know what I was doing because he growled and slapped me back against the wall again.

"No! Look at me! Promise me. I will happily fuck you until dawn if that's what you want or need. I'll bite you and you can still bite me. I want your word that you will not harm yourself in this fashion anymore. I don't even want you thinking about it!" Then he leaned forward pressing me flatter against the wall, and kissed me, hard, and then gradually softer and softer. "Promise me you won't hurt yourself again," he said gruffly. Then softly, in almost a whisper, "Promise me, Sookie."

I had to get down, away, to control it… the thing in me that wasn't me. I could hardly even struggle because his hold on me was so tight. I closed my eyes tight. I was even fighting the urge to try to glamour him into just letting me down. If I could just make him give me more space… No! I closed my eyes even tighter. His voice pressed into my thoughts.

No matter how hard you fight me on this, I will win. Because I am stronger and faster than you will ever be, but more importantly, because you know I'm right. Give into me. Give me your word, get your pleasure. It is yours for the taking. Give in to me....

Give in? I felt anger flare in me. Then I lost my self-control over words that seemed meant to bait me. When had I ever wanted to give in? My eyes flew open and I knew they were coppery and I hissed, open-mouthed with fangs down. But he was too fast for me. I was whipped away from the wall, and spun, so that he held me with my back against his chest, my feet not even touching the floor. His arms were like iron, holding me against him. I couldn't get my eyes on him even if I'd tried. His mouth was right at my ear but he didn't speak out loud.

Listen to me, my beautiful and elegant mate… You will not win. I know you too well and I am too fast and too strong for you to ever catch me with those eyes. So give it up and give me your word. The clock is ticking, Lover, and it hastens toward dawn. You are wasting valuable time when we could be engaged in much more pleasurable things, like fucking or making gentle love or talking or all three, which sounds very tempting. We have an eternity together but, frankly, I'd rather spend as little time as possible of it arguing with you. I'd prefer to be focused on the opportunity for pleasure that your increased physical resilience and stamina provide. I'd like to talk to you about my year here or your year in Europe or how you found my despicable sire. But first, I want your word.

I arched my back and pressed my butt into his hips, feeling the outline of him hard against me. I was literally vibrating, panting.

"Your word, Lover," he repeated in a low voice in my ear. "No more hurting yourself. I need your word and I will help you keep it in whatever way I can." Then he deftly licked the outline of my ear.

I felt like was on the edge of a precipice and the abyss was losing my self-control. I was absolutely sure that Eric could keep this up until dawn and that I'd wake up at sunset to more of the same. In my human life, I'd often thought of him as controlling and relentless. Now what I felt was the immense power that fueled that relentlessness. It was something tangible. The well of that power felt deeper than anything I could imagine, even having dealt with vampires much older than he was. He had a power over me that no one else had. Maybe because I loved him and would never hurt him. Maybe because I'd had so much of his blood. And I knew I was not going to win, no matter how long I fought. 'Because you know I'm right' he'd said to me. How could it be right to carve into myself because I didn't like being a vampire? It wasn't like there was anything that I could cut out or change. I was a vampire and there was no remedy for it. No matter how I argued with myself, I knew he was right.

I let out a low gasp, "I give you my word," amazed at myself for giving in.

"That you will not hurt yourself in order to control yourself and you will not do anything even similar again?"

I gritted my teeth and gnashed my lower jaw forward against my fangs. How was I going to manage to replace my coping strategy?

"But what will I do instead?" I whispered in frustration. "It was the one thing that worked, Eric."

"You will let me help you. And if you feel like you're going to do it, you'll tell me. You will let me help you."

I'd never liked accepting help but I didn't like what I'd been doing to myself. It might work but it was horrible and I had to admit that it had made me feel more alone than ever, every time I did it. It filled me with shame that it was necessary just to control myself so that I'd behave appropriately. So that I still felt… like myself. Did I really have to hurt myself to be myself? Had I finally stopped feeling so angry?

"Sookie…" he said, firmly.

"Yes," I whispered, "I give you my word."

I suddenly felt a shift in energy between us, a warmth, a soothing calm from him. I relaxed for a moment in his arms, even resting my head gently against his. He pressed his lips against my temple, kissing me. But he didn't put me down. Gradually there was this other sensation that subtly wrapped itself back around and around me, that felt like strands and strands of something indefinable to me pulling me tightly to him. I felt like I was wrapped into him, almost physically one with him. It had been there before but now it was much more obvious.

He pressed his lips to my ear.

"And now I'm going to ask you to promise me something that is only slightly less important. What I intended to ask of you before I came in here and caught you hurting yourself."

"What?"

"I want you to promise me one other thing."

"What other thing?"

"It is just as important to me..."

"Jesus Christ, Shepherd of Judea, Eric. Could I have like five minutes of peace? What more could you possibly want from me anyway? I came home to you. I said I wanted to. I told you that I'll stay as I am and stay with you. I told you I would have done the same thing you did if the situation was reversed. I have apologized profusely for my behavior. I was publicly deferential to you in front of a room full of people. I've promised I'll quit cutting myself. What the hell more could you possibly want from me right now?" I hissed, pounding on his forearm as I spoke. Put me down!

He laughed at me!

"A charming speech, my delightful weather. I really like that one, by the way. It has panache and describes you so well. So very stormy at the moment. You sound more like yourself the longer I argue with you, Lover. But, I really do not enjoy arguing with you when we could be doing more interesting things, which I have missed immensely over the past year."

I tried to pull away from him but felt inertia in his arms, as if I couldn't get far from him, couldn't even struggle as much anymore.

What do you want from me? Put me down!

I can hold you like this all night. In fact, if I take you to the other side, we can spend the day like this and you will wake in exactly the same position. I will not give up until I have what I want.

"What is it? What do you want!?"

I hissed, swinging my bare heel into his shin. He then pinned my legs together and pressed them in between his. He leaned back against the wall so that I was almost resting against him, except for the fact that I was so tense, of course. I struggled to get lose from him and drop to the floor but he held me far too tightly. He was just impossibly strong and whatever it was that he was doing seemed to be sapping every ounce of my strength.

He pressed his lips to my ear again.

"I want you to promise me that you will never run away from me again."

The words coursed through me like fire racing through a trail of fuel. Something in the way he said them burned.

"What is this? What are you doing? What is this feeling?"

"You feel our bond, as I have always felt it. It's alive still, in us. I'm am summoning my blood in you, as if to find you, and now you feel it because now we are alike. I speak to my blood and I want your promise, your vow, just as when we married. I want to keep you from running off the next time we disagree or the next time you are so upset. You will stay and we will work out whatever problems you and I have, here in these rooms, not one year or three years or twenty years later."

This feels horrible! You liked this? Are you insane? "What the fuck is this Eric? It feels horrible!"

"You're fighting it. Stop fighting it," he whispered in my ear. "It will warm you, soothe you. Relax. Promise me and feel my blood, in you, when I am happy for a change. Be at peace with me and you will like it."

The words echoed in my mind. I felt a deep connection to him, just as I had when I'd first seen him downstairs.

I felt him smile. He kissed my neck and nibbled at my ear playfully.

"Say it, Lover. You will never run away from me again," he whispered in my ear.

I tensed and resisted. More fire, but this time I just determined to step around it by stepping outside myself. The problem was, I couldn't. Whatever it was he was doing it was like I was literally physically and maybe even mentally bound together with him.

"Grrrr! You've got to be flipping kidding me, Eric. This is not any bond. Is this some sire trick? Some way to control me that you've figured out?"

"No, this really is some blood trick," he said with a chuckle. "This is precisely why many vampires don't want or like to mate and share blood with each other or be bound to one another. But with you min älskade, I have already shared so much of my blood. And that night I had yours. And this is how it feels. Now that your mind is clearer, you can see the whole picture. Every argument we've ever had since I bound you, this is how it feels to me. This is how we will live you and I. It makes it very difficult to avoid our feelings, doesn't it? And this is also why it was so bad that one night we had, almost year ago when we were both so very, very angry. And how I think I did not feel you harming yourself. Because I had tried to tune you so far out of my head because I was so angry that I was afraid I would make you even worse. I didn't even feel you leave the building. But that will never happen again because I won't let it. So all I want is for you to just say it," he whispered in a voice that just seemed to course through me, cajole me, persuade me.

His fangs grazed against my neck and he practically growled and rubbed me against him. I suddenly felt desperate, all over again, to bite him, to be bitten, to taste his blood, and to have him taste mine, to have him inside me in every possible way, all around me. The desire was just overwhelming.

"Say it. You will not run away from me again."

"Bite me," I hissed. "And I mean literally, bite me."

"I'll bite you any way and anywhere you want me to. But only when you tell me what I want to hear."

I snarled, trembling in his arms, twisting against him. But it was hopeless.

I hate this!

It's not like I'm hurting you, and it's not like what I'm asking is unreasonable. I will use whatever means I want or need to in order to get you to do what I want on these two things, Lover. You already gave me one promise. Give me one more. Just tell me what I want to hear and I'm yours for the rest of the night.

I let out another growl of frustration and tried to shift in his grasp but I was unable to. He let out a huffing sound as if almost amused that I was still struggling when there was simply no chance I could get away from him.

"Say you will not run away from me again. Say it, min älskade."

"I didn't run away to be bad to you."

"It wasn't safe, and it's time to grow up. You cannot expect that I will take your repeatedly running away because you are unhappy or frightened or angry or because you do not want to deal with your problems with me or with yourself. It is totally unreasonable and forty-one years on this earth should have taught you better by now. It is bad to me. It is unfair because you do not even give me the chance to work out our problems with you. And because you leave me with a host of other problems when you act this way. It is wrong of you."

"I ran away because I was totally out of control and hurting you. I ran away to protect myself, because I gave you my word not to harm myself, and to protect you, from me."

"Somehow I would like to think that you could work through your issues here, with me, instead of off someplace where I have no idea what is happening to you. And I can protect myself just fine where you're concerned."

"Then I can take care of myself, too. I did take care of myself. I gave you my word and I kept it."

"Ah, yes. By carving yourself up in order to be 'good'? Excellent care. I am not impressed. But more than that, this isn't my understanding of a marriage. The whole running away part? No. First of all, you were off doing something insane. And even if I'm impressed and will forever be grateful to you for it, it frightens me to think of what could have happened to you. And not just at the hands of my sire, or of Delatour. There are other vampires out there who are even nastier pieces of work, Sookie. What happens the day you run away and find you can't glamour some vampire who is after you? Hmmm? Did you know that can happen? I've known other vampires who can glamour our kind and sometimes it doesn't work. You have no idea how lucky you were that the two you tangled with were susceptible to your gift. And then there's the issue of continually running from your problems. Running from me. You don't even know what's out there in my world. Our world. What could have happened to you if someone had detected your gift. How lucky you were that Ocella didn't realize it..."

He brushed his lips against my skin so softly and embraced me even more tightly for a moment.

"Min älskade, I do not want to imagine even a second of your being in Ocella's hands if he had caught you and overpowered you. The thought of it fills me with dread. So maybe instead of running off to other continents you might benefit more from my eleven hundred years of experience by staying home? I have seen and heard of many, many things that might be of use to you. You are powerful, elegant, and I am so proud of you. You were beyond clever and brave but mostly, Sookie, you were just very, very lucky. You know so little and are trusting to who knows whom to tell you or show you things. And you are trusting to a skill that may one day fail you. What will you do the day that happens, hmm? No, you will not keep running away when the going gets tough. I won't let you. I simply won't. I'm done with it. I'm not losing you again, if I can possibly prevent it. At least not like that. I'm going to do anything in my power to get you to stop running away. I want your word. Right now."

I tried to kick at him again in frustration.

"Say it, Sookie," his hissed into my ear.

He held me tight with a single arm like an iron rod against him and then reached around and pulled my jaw with his left hand, tipping my head gently toward my left shoulder. He nibbled at my right ear and pressed his lips to my throat. I felt his fangs graze my neck again, tempting me with pleasure and with being bitten, all the while reminding me of how vulnerable I was. He waited for my words while I hovered in some cloud of annoyance and desire. I tried to push him out of my mind, away, far away. I almost succeeded when he seemed to yank me back. I felt like he was literally pulling on the blood in my veins.

Stubborn creature! No more running away. Please. Say it.

The word 'please' echoed in my mind. All his words echoed in my mind. Unfair, unsafe, insane. I flashed on what I'd seen in Stefan's mind and thought of what would have happened to me if I had failed. Yes, Ocella would have tortured and certainly would have killed me had he overpowered me. But I did not want to tell Eric of my failsafe plan. As I had said to him earlier, I was not leaving this earth without taking Ocella with me and had made quite sure that I would. Had I really just been extremely lucky? I'd thought that any vampire would be susceptible to my glamouring skills. I'd never even thought to ask Eric anything about it before I'd run away because I was so out of control with anger and lust and not even thinking about what I was doing with my mind. I was rather chilling to think that I'd been trusting to something that might not work at all on occasion. But now, what he was asking me to promise him? What else could I do when I really felt like I needed to get away for my sanity or to avoid causing more problems? What was I to do if I just couldn't be here?

"What I told you I needed to go away?"

"If I knew exactly where you were, if you took someone with you for protection, and you stayed in touch every night, even just with a simple message, I might consider it. For a while. That would not be running away. That would be a 'mental health' break. And I may need one myself after this entire conversation…" he said, clenching his jaw and shaking his head. "I do not see what you do not understand about how your running away is bad for us. It is bad for you and to me. If I did this to you, how would it leave you feeling? What is it that you do not understand, Sookie? Say you will not run away from me again," he growled.

He released my throat and his hands trailed down my neck, on to my chest and stroked across my breast as he murmured in my ear "Such a beautiful creature, so proud, so brave..." Then he chuckled at me playfully as I fought against leaning into his hand on my breast and lost.

Say it…

"Oh… grrrrrrrr!" I growled. I didn't want to give in to him! Why shouldn't I be able to go where I pleased when I needed to? It was so hard to push him, his voice, his mind, out of my head. I felt like he was inside me, all around me, inescapable.

He chuckled again.

"You are so incredibly stubborn. Such a simple thing I ask of you, Lover. Is it so hard to promise you will stay with me? Is that not what you promised when you married me? Can you be so cold with me as to not see what your running away does to me?"

At those last words I could feel myself begin to totally cave into him. It didn't take much to imagine what my running away, for a second time no less, must have felt like to him. Even if I felt I had done it to protect him, I couldn't imagine it, especially having to deal with it no doubt being so public here in New Orleans and even with the AVL. I felt, once again, a sense of shame over how horrible I'd been. Finally, I said almost without effort,

"I give you my word that I will stop running away from you. I will not leave again without telling you where I'm going."

"Protection? Contact?"

"I promise you," I said, going almost limp in his arms. It was like a huge release of tension. But he didn't ease up.

"Now tell me both things again."

I groaned with annoyance.

"Oh, Jesus Christ, Eric!" I growled, sinking my nails into his forearm. "Maybe instead I can say I can't believe I missed you, considering how obnoxious and demanding you can be?"

"That can be the third thing. Unfortunately, I want the other two things, my beautiful wife. I would like to hear you say them, while I have you fully in the grasp of my blood in you, to be sure we have an absolutely clear understanding. I have a history with you. Since there occasionally seems to be a lack of clarity about what you have promised me, I want no misunderstanding about these two things because they are very important to me."

"What lack of clarity? What are you talking about?"

"I believe that you promised me, a year ago, that you would not harm yourself. And yet I find that you are carving yourself up. It looked like it hurt. It certainly hurt me to see it so I'd definitely consider it harmful. I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt on the other aspects of the promise. But I find you on shaky ground on the issue of your not hurting yourself. And then there are all the other promises you've made in the past which you've manage to twist just a bit to suit yourself. About telling me things, about not putting yourself at risk, about trusting me. I am willing to take into consideration what led us to this point, but even so, I wish to clarify what it is that you have promised me now." He softly kissed my ear. "Mrs. Northman?"

I groaned and pressed my nails into his arm in a kneading motion as I tensed against him. But there was simply no point in wasting more of my time arguing about something I'd already agreed to. Gritting my teeth with barely contained annoyance I said,

"I will not hurt myself to control myself in any way. I will not run away from you ever again."

"My night is clear and free of storms, at last," he whispered to me, in an extremely teasing tone of voice.

I seriously wanted to smack him. Or maybe fuck for hours. He had, after all, promised.

Faster than the blink of an eye it seemed, he had me across the dayroom, the library and into the dark bedroom. We illuminated the dark room with a faint glow. He tossed me onto the bed after turning me around and giving me a very firm kiss. He turned the nightstand light on. He was beaming to have gotten exactly what he wanted. As usual. He looked so delighted with himself that it was positively insufferable. I felt a shimmering happiness in the blood in my veins, just as he had promised. It felt... annoying. Because he was happy having gotten what he wanted out of me. And of course, in spite of it, I wanted him all over me and all over inside me, which made no sense at all if I was so annoyed. But I looked at him and hungered. I had this fleeting thought that whoever had come up with the expression 'good enough to eat' had definitely been vampire.

He took off his tie and put it away, in a dramatic fashion, clearly making a point of it. In recent years I had complained bitterly that he appeared absolutely incapable of putting away any of his things reasonably on his own. He unbuttoned his shirt and then just sat on the edge of the bed, looking at me with eyes that shone with happiness. He picked up my hand and kissed it.

"Min älskade?" he said softly. He brushed the back of my hand against his cheek and closed his eyes for just a moment, then looked at me questioningly.

In spite of all the desire coursing through me, I felt this sudden and unexpected wave of tenderness in response to his now gentle manner, which was clearly asking me what I wanted, rather than telling me what he wanted.

My eyes absorbed the lines of his face. It was so refreshing not to feel anger, worry or raw lust but rather, tenderness mingled with desire. I leaned over and put my palm on his chest. I looked into his eyes, which glowed softly. I reached up and brushed back a stray strand of hair that had come loose from his ponytail during his struggle with me, then put my hand back on his chest. I felt this twisting of my heart inside that didn't feel vampire at all. It felt like long ago, when I'd done something bad and my Gran had told me off and said I'd hurt her feelings and disappointed her. It was a very human feeling. I had hurt him and what I wanted more than anything else was to know he could truly forgive me for the past year. Or that it was even remotely possible that he might be able to do so.

"Do you really forgive me for the things I said to you, Eric? For my hurting you? For my… leaving the way I did?"

He touched my cheek softly. And shook his head with a sad smile.

"Sometimes I was afraid that you would never forgive me for the choice I made after what Pam did. Of course, I forgive you. Some of what you said was true, even if I did not like to hear it. I made the only choices I could make. You are too much a part of me to make different choices. But as you say, you would have done no differently." He leaned over and kissed me softly. "I am still yours," he whispered, nuzzling his nose against mine.

The words seemed to have an almost visceral effect on me. It was like I felt them in my very blood. How different it felt compared to when I'd been alive and heard the same simple phrase. It meant something so much stronger and deeper than I had realized. At least between us. Clearly not his because I was food, his legal wife, or his responsibility. It was something that went so much deeper than those things had been. Even though now things were so changed with me, they had not changed so much in his eyes…?

"And I am yours," I replied softly, giving myself back to him, as I had long ago, when I was human. Or was it even giving myself back? Had I ever really pulled away from him, even when I was so angry?

His entire face relaxed at hearing my words. His eyes glowed like embers as he smiled at me.

I felt another crashing wave of desire wash over me. My hand trailed down his chest and then tugged on the waistband of his trousers to pull him toward me a bit.

"You're sure?" he murmured.

"It's either you or breaking my word with something very sharp… The choice is yours."

"Shhhhh, no," he said softly running his thumb over my lips. "I just want to be sure that you are really comfortable, Sookie. With me, with being back at home," he sighed. "I want you to feel…"

I firmly pulled him still closer and he chuckled, shaking his head as I was literally strong enough now to slide him across the sheets toward me. He stopped talking. He rocked me onto my back and unzipped the side zipper on my leather pants. He had the pants off me before I got even close to unfastening his belt and trousers. He admired the leather slacks and then tossed them over the other side of the bed with a mischievous look. I sat back up and the black silk top and my bra were off in no time. He was so fast whipping off my clothes that I had made little further progress with his.

"I think even when you were playing around with me that you were deliberately slower before, when I was alive, just trying to avoid totally freaking me out."

"Really? I am dismayed that you think I avoided frightening you..."

As he spoke he touched the talisman on its leather cord, looking puzzled as he ran his finger over it.

I took hold of his hand as he touched the leather as if to loosen it.

"It should stay on," I said firmly.

He touched the turquoise stone again gingerly with his left index finger.

"What is this? And I don't mean the stone, it's obviously turquoise. But what is it? What is it… doing?"

"My friend gave it to me. I promised to wear it."

"The witch?" he asked, then raised his eyebrow.

I nodded and drew his hand away from touching Mathilde's pendant.

"It's for protection," I said, by way of explanation.

He hesitated, staring at it.

"Yes, well, it gives off… something magical. What, exactly, is she protecting you from?" he asked looking at it almost distrustfully.

I chewed my lip.

"Myself?" I whispered. "I'll tell you about it another time. But I have to leave it on. I promised I would. I've worn it for many months now. I promise it is only for me. It can't harm you."

I could tell he still really didn't like the idea very much.

He leaned closer.

"It has runes carved into it?"

"Yes, Mannaz, my favorite, Naudiz and Wunjo. It is supposed to help me. It's really fine."

"Mannaz, yes..." he whispered. He seemed to shudder. He knew that was what I had been carving into my arm.

I wanted to get away from the whole subject.

"You promised me other things. Beyond discussion," I said, eagerly. I was really starting to have trouble remaining 'appropriate.' After a year of no sex and knowing that I really couldn't possibly start slicing and dicing again, I was really feeling rather… desperate.

"So I did. So I did…"

He smiled as he stripped his own clothes off, tossing them aside with a playful smile. The scent of him was utterly intoxicating. He seemed almost teasingly happy when he saw that I was sort of drinking in his scent. He blew on me softly, making me look up at his eyes.

"Have I mentioned that I missed more than just sex? I just want to be clear on that point. Not just the sex. Although, I definitely missed the sex quite a bit. But I do not wish you to think that was all that I missed. And just also, to clarify a point, I too have stuck to my vow made some time ago. I trusted that you would keep yours…"

"You had a fight with Andor about it?" I asked, dragging my eyes, with difficulty, back up to his. "I caught something about a fight with Andor where you punched a hole in the wall. I didn't mean to… You were really focused, so it was like a 'loud' thought."

"We had a slight disagreement over something, that's all. Just a disagreement. Nothing to worry about."

"Andor is very, very angry with me."

"That is not exactly true and it's nothing for you to be concerned about right now." He stroked his hand down the top of my thigh and then took my left forearm in his hand and stroked it gently. He hesitated for a moment and then looked me in the eyes with a pained expression. "I would have preferred your infidelity than to think that you were doing what you were doing to yourself, Sookie."

"It was something I could control, when so much in my world had spun out of control," I whispered. "Even me. It brought me back to myself. I just can't explain it. I can't put it into words. And I'm very scared to think about how I'm not supposed to be doing it anymore."

"You are still yourself, Sookie. I've known you for more than a third of your life. You are still yourself. Even the fact that you care about who you are is indicative of that. You are a mixture of yourself and something new. And I will help you not do it."

"Something new," I whispered, repeating his words. Something not horrible or hurtful or…?

He kissed my forehead and rubbed his face against it. I felt another wave of desire wash over me from feeling him so close to me and closed my eyes for a moment.

"Something entirely new… Beautiful, and stronger… Is it true you fly, Lover? Stefan said they told him that you flew and landed on the street at the main entrance," he said as he ran his index finger under the edge of my lace panty. "These have to be French. And they are so very attractive on you. But so much black, Lover? You were not made to wear so much black. Although these are very nice. I'm thoroughly going to enjoy removing them. Slowly."

My eyes opened and raced over him as if I stood, starved, before a feast. I was so close that I could practically taste him. I could literally smell his blood, which was so familiar to me. And I could smell other things I liked, as well. I was distracted by my overwhelming desire and just nodded to whatever he said as I pulled him closer to me. I leaned back into the pillows and pulled him onto me. I brushed my hand from his waist, smoothly down his back and butt and gasped softly, grabbing it. He felt so very good to touch, to look at, to smell. Firm, sinewy muscles, with skin that was still soft because he had been young when he had died. How I wanted him. I wanted to feel him everywhere on me, in me. Who cared about flying or French underwear or whatever damn color I wore?

"Pam is going to take the flying so badly, Lover. She'll be so jealous. She always wanted to fly. She is very fast. She can run like the wind. But she cannot fly."

I could no longer even formulate a reply or nod anymore. I couldn't fathom how Eric, if he really felt the same urges I did, could even be talking about anything or anyone when all I could think of was biting and fucking and the taste of his blood, the taste of him. I wanted him pounding inside me. I felt like I was barely capable of being polite about getting what I wanted. I was really trying so hard to be nice, gentle and... So very, very hard… I clenched my jaw as I tried not to think of my favorite razor slicing into my thigh. I gasped slightly as I tried to pull back and look at his lips, and those very nice long fangs which could bite me in any number of pleasurable places… Focus, I said to myself. Focus on what he could do to me, rather than what I could do to myself. If he would just shut up.

"Lover, you look so tense," he said with much merriment as he pulled me further under him, with a iron hand gripping my thigh, kissing my bent knee after stroking up from my inner thigh to grab my leg from behind my knee. He wrapped my legs around him and teased me, rubbing himself against me, even though the damn panty was still on. He raised an eyebrow and ran his tongue suggestively over his fangs. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were really horny,' he said playfully running his finger under the edge of the lace yet again. With an absolutely smug smile he said, "I'm trying to think about how to make you feel more relaxed and I'm torn between…"

I bit him.

He certainly couldn't say I hadn't warned him.