This chapter was something of a struggle so apologies for the delay. Enormous thanks to MoxieMo for her very helpful suggestions on how to improve it. This is more of an Eric's point of view on the nights spent in Russell's mansion.

Something was out there in the darkness. The Were on gatehouse duty could sense it as he sniffed the air. There was nothing to be seen, and no sound apart from the summer breeze rustling through the trees, and the night insects. He stayed alert. Russell Edgington was not a forgiving employer, if anyone or anything got through the security, his neck would be on the line.

Waiting motionless in the clump of trees, Eric considered his next move. For the first time in many centuries, he would be walking into danger without a clear plan. He felt distinctly uncomfortable, but he had no alternative. Apprehension and excitement battled within him, but also a powerful loneliness. For over a millennia Godric had been at his side as they searched for his nemesis. Now he was alone.

The situation was like a game of chess, but this game was already in progress and he did not yet know which pieces remained on the board. Neither did he have any idea of the skills and tactics of his opponent. The only thing he knew for certain was that the consequences of failure would be terrible. This was a game with live pieces, rather like the children's film that Pam had made him watch several years ago, when she decided he was insufficiently in touch with popular culture.

A direct approach was safest, he decided. As the Sheriff of a neighbouring area he was guaranteed an audience with the King. He would make his pitch and let Russell Edgington's reaction guide his next move. Assuming a stance which was part swagger and part attack, he emerged from the shadows and approached the gatehouse.

If Eric had thought himself a player, it was immediately clear that Russell was a master. He had to admire the King's feigned innocence about the whereabouts of Bill Compton. Russell was willing to put himself temporarily on the back foot. He knew when to give ground in order to position himself exactly where he wanted to be.

Eric matched the tactic. Lies and bluster would get him nowhere. Besides, he needed to know what the King really thought of Sophie-Anne and the Magister, whether there was any common interest between them. The result was better than he could have dreamed, if vampires were to dream. After what Sophie-Anne had done to him and Pam, it would give him the greatest pleasure to see her delivered up to Russell as a trophy bride. It was all he could do to supress his laughter at the thought.

One queen would be saved, and the other could be too, if only he could persuade Bill Compton not to do anything stupid. He needed to find his room and have a few minutes alone with him.

Talbot was the key to success. The king's consort had made no effort to hide his sexual interest, and that was something he could surely exploit. He smiled over the rim of his glass, his gaze seductive.

"Perhaps a tour of the mansion?" Talbot suggested, hopefully. He was very taken with the big, blond vampire, and if he had read the body language correctly, the feeling was mutual.

Eric readily agreed, not flinching as the consort took his arm.

"How long has Russell relied on Were for his security?" Eric asked. A reasonable question, nothing to raise suspicion.

"Oh, as long as I can remember. They're dumb as a box of rocks of course, but they are strong and generally loyal. They're vicious though, and dangerous when they're drunk or high."

"You have a very beautiful house." Eric chose a topic guaranteed to distract Talbot's attention.

"Thank you, you are too kind," he simpered. "We've only been here ten years, but I'm very proud of what we, or rather I, have achieved. Of course it does help that money is no object." With that, he launched into a long and detailed resume of the main features, letting slip that the bedrooms were the only rooms not covered by security cameras. Russell did not want to be thought a voyeur, and as none of them had windows there was no risk of any unfortunate incidents.

They ascended the main staircase and Talbot indicated the corridors of guest bedrooms. The house seemed still and quiet, but from somewhere came the faint sounds of a struggle. Eric was immediately alert and Talbot moved quickly to reassure him.

"That is the secure corridor, nothing too obvious of course, but there are some guests whose movements we need to be aware of. The first room on the right has been allocated to Bill Compton." His dislike of the Louisiana vampire was very evident.

Eric didn't move. He could clearly hear the sound of a struggle, and what sounded like a woman crying. It wasn't Sookie—he would have known if she were near—but she was definitely human.

"Sounds like fun, do we get to join in?"

"You wouldn't like it, I assure you. It's Franklin Mott. He works as a tracker for Russell. He's one of the best at his job, but a total fuck-up in every other way. He's picked up another human woman; she's the love of his undead existence apparently. They always are. I've never known one to last longer than a week."

"Where is this one from?"

Actually, I think she is from your area – Northern Louisiana, is that right? Some one-horse town called Bon Temps."

"That's where Bill Compton has been living since he started mainstreaming." He was fishing for more information, knowing that Talbot was far too self-obsessed to realise his true purpose.

"That's why Franklin was there. Russell sent him to search Compton's house to see if he could find anything of interest."

"And did he?"

"You didn't hear this from me, but apparently Mr. Compton was keeping a dossier of information about this barmaid he is so obsessed with."

"I wouldn't read anything into that." Eric's expression gave nothing away, "Bill Compton is extraordinarily anal, if you will excuse the expression."

"My dear, Bill Compton's problem is that he is nowhere near anal enough." Talbot laughed loudly at his own joke.

A further hour was spent admiring the finest pieces before Eric was able to escape to his room.

"Tomorrow night I will show you the private collection," Talbot had promised.

"I can't wait."

With a quick glance to ensure he wasn't being observed, Eric knocked on the door of Bill's room. The look he got could have turned milk sour, but nevertheless he was ushered in.

He regarded Bill with an unblinking gaze. The younger vampire shifted nervously, avoiding his former sheriff's eye. For several minutes Eric said nothing, allowing the tension to build and fill the room. When he finally broke the silence,

"Why do I not believe you when you say you have renounced Sookie?"

"You can believe what you like, I have accepted Russell's offer to be his Sheriff; my loyalty is to him now." Bill's voice was a little too firm. He was playing to an unseen audience, Eric realised. At least he had the sense to consider that they might be bugged.

"The king does know that your interest in Sookie goes far beyond what is considered normal for a human pet."

Bill winced at Eric's use of the derogatory term, but said nothing, allowing Eric to continue.

"If you think you can take on Russell and win, you are more of an idiot than I thought."

"It's rather late to pretend you are concerned about my safety." Fear and despair had only served to increase his hatred, and he made no attempt to hide his feelings.

So the gloves are off, Eric thought. Bill was such a fool. If he hadn't been so blinded by jealousy he would have realised that it was in Sookie's best interests for them to work together. Reigning in his temper, he made one last attempt at reason. "I have no interest at all in your safety, but Sookie is in Jackson and she is determined to rescue you. I fear that she is putting herself in danger."

"And of course it would suit you very well if she went back to Bon Temps for you to prey on her."

Eric scowled in disgust. He no longer had the energy to waste arguing. How many times could one state the obvious and still not be heard.

"I am glad to hear that you have accepted Russell's offer to serve him as sheriff. I am sure you will do a fine job. If you stay here in Mississippi and, what is the expression, keep your head down, it will most assuredly be best for everyone, particularly for Sookie."

Bill actually snarled at him, baring his fangs. Eric shook his head. By his standards he had been more than fair, but the rebuff left him feeling only contempt. He left the room without another word.

Eric's last thoughts before he succumbed to his temporary death were of his child Pam. She was brave, he knew, but the Magister would be sure to use the silver torture. That was a terrible fate and one that she did not deserve. He could not afford to wait too long before he persuaded Russell to act.

The next night

"I'd love some of the blood you served last night, it was truly spectacular."

"I'm so sorry, Sheriff Northman," Talbot smiled coyly. "The Thai boy will need a few days rest before he can donate again. I have a delightful Moroccan boy who has been fed nothing but almonds for the last week, if you would like to sample it."

Eric forced a smile, as he took a seat on the couch in front of the fire, with a meaningful glance at the place next to him.

"Is Russell the jealous type?" Eric asked, lifting his hand to trail gentle fingers across Talbot's neck and throat.

"Oh no, we both like to share. After seven hundred years it helps keep the excitement alive." He had his hand on Eric's thigh and was running it up and down, increasing the pressure with each stroke.

"Will he be gone long?"

"Long enough, I'm sure," Talbot replied, sounding hopeful. "He was very excited about something though. I get the feeling that Mr. Compton is in some kind of trouble."

Eric snorted in a gesture of disgust, before rearranging his face to its former composure. "I'd love to see your private collection," he flashed his most brilliant smile. He realized he might have to succumb to Talbot's advances but he would put off the moment for as long as he could.

Talbot quivered with pleasure as he showed Eric the highlights from Russell's thousands of years of collecting. He had the finest artefacts from every country and age. They had only a small selection in the mansion, with hundreds more items in secure storage. Of all the finery laid out in front of him, it was a simple gold crown which caught Eric's eye. It took every ounce of self-control not to attack the other vampire there and then. Revenge would have to wait, but it would most assuredly come.

The sound of slamming doors and raised voices drew them back to the entrance lobby. Eric's self-control was tested to breaking point as Sookie and Bill were dragged in. He should have staked the idiot while he had the chance. Once again he had the feeling that events were move too fast and too unpredictably, spiralling out of his control. He needed time to think, but that was a luxury he just didn't have.

He could feel the anger rolling off Sookie in waves, as powerful as the breakers of the Baltic Sea he had watched crash against the shoreline of his homeland as a child.

"I hate you Eric Northman, I will never forgive you for this."

Humans were emotional and irrational, he reminded himself. She would understand, eventually. He had to believe that.

At that moment he would have given anything for her to be able to read his thoughts. It was essential that Russell should not realise that there was anything between them. He knew that the king's curiosity had been stirred by his first exchange with Bill. He had let his arrogance overcome his better judgement and goaded the younger vampire. Godric would have chided him for allowing a momentary pleasure to be bought at such a price.

Conscious of their audience, he slipped easily into the role of superior being. It came easily; he had a thousand years of practice after all. He was careful to stand close to Sookie as first Russell then Lorena made their threats against her. If he were forced to, he would protect her. That was something that he could not risk revealing, as he guided her into the king's study, and sat her down on the couch.

He gazed deep into her eyes, willing her to read the meaning in his face. He leant in close and ghosted a kiss on her cheek, lingering for a moment, putting off the inevitable just a little longer.

"You mean nothing to me, nothing, do you understand." He could no longer meet her gaze, knowing that he would see only her hurt and confusion.

In her anger she yelled and screamed back at him. He put on his best fake smile since Russell was well within earshot and this was what he needed him to hear. It didn't make the feeling in his gut any less painful as he left the room and stalked up the stairs. By the gods, how he hated feelings.

Left alone with Russell, Sookie tried to harden her heart against Eric's rejection. His words had been so hurtful, but something about the way he had uttered them made her wonder. His touch had been so gentle, and the look in his eyes had been one of concern, not hatred. She couldn't let herself rely on him, though. It seemed clear that he was putting his own interests first. She had to think of her own safety, and of Bill's.

The thought of Bill left alone with that bitch Lorena gave her the determination to stand up to the king.

"I have friends you know, people who will come after me if anything should happen."

Russell laughed. She had to be bluffing. He had thought that Sheriff Northman harboured a fancy for the girl, but that didn't appear to be the case.

"There is a fine line between feisty and foolish, Miss Stackhouse, I suggest that you do not cross it."

Russell looked meaningfully at the red-hot poker in the quite unnecessary fire.

"I have something to show you, it may change your opinion of Mr. Compton. Did you know that he has been collecting a secret file on you? Now why would he be doing that, I ask myself, and who for?"

"How do I know this is Bill's?"

"Just look at the information. Only someone who has been to Bon Temps and who knows your family history could have collected this level of detail. I can assure you that I have never been there. What you should be asking yourself is why Bill felt the need to keep this secret from you."

Sookie considered his words carefully. She desperately wanted to convince herself that the man she loved couldn't have done this, or that if he had there was a perfectly innocent explanation. There was just no way she could see it though. She had started a scrapbook of their life together, but that was open – she was going to share it with him. Keeping a dossier on her was secretive, furtive.

"So what's your theory?"

Russell looked startled at her presumption, but answered her anyway.

"My theory is that there is something special about you, something which people aren't telling me. I intend to keep you here until I find out."

"How about if I'm willing to trade? I'll tell you what you need to know in exchange for Bill's life."

"I'm so sorry, my dear, but you have nothing to bargain with. I shall find out eventually. Bill Compton lied to me, and that is something I will not tolerate. Now if you will excuse me, I have other urgent business to attend to." He summoned one of the black clad guards to escort her to her room. "Please remember that this house is guarded day and night. Please don't do anything foolish. I would so hate to have to ruin that pretty face of yours." He fingered the poker suggestively.

Russell and Eric returned to Jackson the following night to find Talbot was in a state of meltdown. The arrival of Sophie-Anne with her entourage and baggage did nothing to improve his mood.

"Both the humans have escaped. Franklin Mott has had his head beaten to a pulp, on my best sheets."

"Is he dead?" Russell interrupted.

"No, but Lorena is."

"I hope she didn't spoil any bed linen," Eric smirked unhelpfully, earning himself a glare from the king and his consort.

"Miss Stackhouse was kind enough to use the slave's quarters for her little outburst of vampiricide, unlike her friend. She shot that idiot Cooter as well."

"Everyone has been busy while we've been away." It was Russell's turn to be sarcastic. It was the only way to hide his fury. One vampire murdered, and another barely escaping the same fate, at the hands of a human, in his mansion. It was intolerable.

He had other things to concern him though, as Talbot thoughtfully pointed out, when he confessed to killing the Magister.

"I think we may need the telepath after all."

"Really," Eric replied, attempting to sound disinterested. "You have seen how poor her judgement is, rescuing Bill Compton, even after she found out about the dossier."

Russell's eyes narrowed. He had a very good memory and he did not recall mentioning anything about Compton's file on the girl. He decided to overlook the point for now, it wasn't of any importance.

"She has some very unique powers; I may have need of her." He ignored Talbot's evil stare as her turned once more for the door.

"Sheriff Northman will keep you entertained, my love," was his parting shot.

"He had better make it good, I am very hard to please," Talbot sulked in response.

Oh, it would be good, Eric thought. In fact he would make it unforgettable, for them all.