Chapter 2

I pulled my worn old pink robe tighter, as I made my way down the chilly, windowless hallway to my bedroom. With my eyes intent on the wooden floorboards that creaked familiarly beneath my red wool clad feet, I blocked out thoughts of Eric, vampire politics, and supes in general. I tried to focus on normalcy-that's a stretch, as I have been called anything but normal by most of the inhabitants of Bon Temps. I made myself think of mundane things like chores: stacking firewood next to the fireplace, doing my laundry, dusting the furniture and sweeping the floors. Heck, I had enough normal stuff to do to fill a couple of days off from work. Without Amelia here, I could stretch it out, and pace myself. She was a whirling dervish when it came to housework. When she got nervous she cleaned, and I missed her something awful, since she and Octavia had gone down to New Orleans a week ago to sell "harmless" spell-laden trinkets to horny Mardi Gras tourists. There were definitely bound to be some strange happenings in N'awlins this year.Witches! It hadn't even been a moment and I'd fallen back into that "other" way of thinking! I am a lost cause…

Boooommm!

There was no preamble, no forewarning, just the feeling of something akin to a door being kicked opened within me-crazy, huh?- and the cool February air rushing in unabated; a sudden blast of winter washing over me, filling me. The warm air left my lungs with a whoosh, as the chill claimed the vacated space. I halted, staggering slightly and shivering, as my mind focused on the blood-bond, which I knew was the source of this sudden feeling. I had a moment to register the bond's amazing rush of energy and the coolness radiating through my chest, when the feeling changed and my name reverberated in my head.

"Sookiiiieeee!"

It was a lusty shout of satisfaction, which rang out ever so sexily against my mind's inner ear, grabbing my libido and pulling me down onto the soft blankets of memory. My legs gave way beneath me and I slid, boneless, to the cold floor; he did that to me. My body moistened and my mouth went dry while a powerful wave of hot, blinding pleasure hit me in my gut, and lower, taking my breath away, and sending my body flying. I closed unseeing eyes, lost myself in his joy, and just let go…

"Sweet Jesus!" I managed, moments later, my body vibrating with the force of his emotions- the flood of pure Viking awareness that I felt. It was Eric! I knew it. I knew him. I could taste the wildness of him and I felt the bond nearly singing with his presence, the amazing energy that he gave off. What had he done? And could he do it again?! It never crossed my mind that he was with another-it was broad daylight outside-and why would he share this with me? Eric was many things, but he was not cruel to me.

But what the heck was going on in Shreveport?!

He was still with me. It had been so long since I had felt Eric in my head, in my body, that I just sat there, enjoying the feel of him, my back pressed against the wall, my mind still dazed, and discombobulated, air moving stertorously from my lungs. Shakily, I ran my hand through my hair fighting to calm myself. As though sensing my upheaval, he responded. I felt Eric's coolness flow into me, this time like a gentle questioning, perhaps unease. Was it worry? I don't know how I knew it was, but I felt the prodding along the bond, and could nearly see his eyebrows raised quizzically as he stared at me with concerned eyes, still opaque in desire. Damn, he was good at this blood-bond thing!

I hadn't consciously tried to convey emotions through the bond; Rhodes was necessity, and sheer will. This was something else. I concentrated on calmness, my sense of well-being, and despite my desire to shut it out, my longing for him slipped into my head and tangled into emotions that coursed through me and out to him.

The answering flow was warm, caressing, and tinged with the same strength he'd sent me in Rhodes during the trial. However, I felt his hunger for me, as if it was a tangible thing-he lived with sex on the brain. Then my awareness of him abated, and that peaceful hum that was him in slumber echoed in my head. I smiled, and let myself be happy for a while-yep, despite my nay-saying, this bond made me happy; it was still there, and more importantly, Eric missed me. He wasn't indifferent as I'd believed.

That knowledge carried me through my self-appointed chores, and somewhere in the middle of them, as I shook out the rug in front of the fireplace, I decided that I would go take the bull by the horns, or the Viking by the horns, as it were. I'd swallow my pride and go to Fangtasia. Heck, Eric had had more time to work at being stubborn than I had, and I was not going to win at that every time with him. You had to pick your battles, after all, time was on his side.

***

I took my time with my appearance, as I wanted to look great without appearing to have spent hours primping for him, even though I did. Yeah, I'm a girl. I washed my hair with an herbal scented shampoo that I knew Eric liked and blow-dried it into a golden mane that I left loose about my shoulders and I did my nails and polished them a deep crimson. Yeah, he liked that, too. I'd showered and scrubbed my skin to the point it was as soft as a baby's bottom, and added an expensive perfumed body lotion, Euphoria, that had been an impulse buy at Christmas. It was so unlike me, but I had loved the scent, and the name. I thought it was fate, too, because it was the word of the day, on my calendar, and I had been feeling anything but euphoria, at the prospect of a lonely Christmas.

He's up.

I could feel the dull hum of the bond become a deeper vibration, and it felt good; I felt good. I glanced over at the clock, and marked the time at 6:15. The sun had set a few minutes ago and it was beginning to get dark.

My thoughts whirred with activity. I put on pretty underwear, not that I planned on anyone seeing it, but just for me. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. I squeezed my natural bounty into a soft crimson sweater, and slipped on, or rather tugged on, a pair of low rise jeans that did mad things for my behind, and allowed one to glimpse my flat, remnant-of- a-tan -having –stomach when I walked. A pair of black boots and I was ready to go.

An hour or so later, I pulled on my cranberry coat, while singing off-key to Buckcherry's Don't Go Away. The song had popped into my head, and I couldn't get it off my mind; I wasn't doing it justice, because I can't sing a lick. However, at this moment, it didn't matter; I just felt good-great-charged up, even. So I belted out the lyrics:

Please don't go away
You're making a mistake
You and I were meant to be
You opened up my eyes
And made me realize
Now its changing everything
It's crazy how I feel this way
I can't explain don't go away-

I had a moment to register the source of my happiness before I stuck my courage to the sticking place, wherever that was, and opened the door.

He filled the doorway; all wondrous-six-foot-four-something-of–a-gorgeous-Viking, with long, thick blond hair that whipped about in the brisk play of the night wind, and made him look like he belonged on one of the covers of those romances that Claude and I had posed for a while back. Our eyes met, and I, who was immune to glamour, was as susceptible as the next girl to the sensuous promises in the blue depths of his eyes. The truth was, that Eric could back up every one of them, and then some! And as if he could read my mind-could he?- he gave me a slow, suggestive wink, leaned his head indolently against the doorjamb, and crossed his black leather-clad arms against his broad chest.

Released, my eyes skittered to safety, and I focused on his muscular, white throat before taking in his thick, navy, cable sweater, stretched taut over his chest, mid-rise stone-washed jeans that snugly covered the gracious plenty and legs that went on forever, and ended in black blunt-toed leather boots. Yes, I got a lot in a glance, before desire sent my mind south. I think I gaped at him like an idiot for a moment. O.k., maybe a few moments!

"Ugh…" Now that was eloquent.

He couldn't be more devastating, I thought, and then he was, because he gave me that slow grin of his, that reflected in his sparkling blue eyes and turned my legs to Jell-o …ah, damn.

"Hello, my lover." His voice smoldered, as he showed a little fang, and I was wet and ready to jump him on cue. His eyes darkened, and his pupils dilated. Yeah, he knew.

Slowly, deliberately, Eric leaned in to me, breathing in my scent as he, like the most adoring feline, rubbed his cheek against mine, a satisfied purr rumbling through his chest, and making me curl my toes. How I'd missed that sound. His cool lips lightly grazed my cheek, as he turned his head, and slid his face into my hair. I stood there, immobile, breathless. My chest as still as his. Oh God, how did he do that? He made me weak, made my body a traitor to my brain, my hootchie, a wanton beggar at his feast.

I didn't realize that I had closed my eyes, and drifted towards him, or that my lips had parted of their own accord until he said with a slight chuckle, "Close your mouth, my lover, and let me in."

His laughter was like cold water, and I opened my eyes wide, shut my mouth, reined in my libido, and attempted coherent thought, and speech. "Eric, what…what are you doing here?" That was weak, but it would do.

His beautiful eyes searched mine, before he glanced down at my lips, his long blond lashes, nearly touching his white cheeks, as he trailed the back of his fingers against the line of my jaw in a caress that threatened my sanity, once more.

"You called and I came," he whispered huskily.

Yes, he did! Now didn't that just say it all? Eric had quite the sense of humor.