A Southern Story
by Cigarette
Chapter Three: Swoon
As the two sharp fangs belonging to the Viking God Vampire puncture my skin in one invisible movement, pain and fear are miraculously far down on the list of emotions I'm experiencing. Shock is at the top. One second, Eric was merely touching me, and before I realized he'd even moved I felt him bite into my neck. Next on the list is indignation because I specifically asked him not to bite my neck, and it can't be such an inconvenience to him to find another location, can it?
The pain … is not nearly as bad as I expected. I deal with way worse than this on a monthly basis. His fangs are so sharp and the bite was so sudden, it can't hurt that much.
That's not to say it doesn't hurt at all. It definitely does. But it was over quickly. A fast bite, and then the sucking.
Speaking of which … this is going on a little too long. I start to panic. This is more than a taste. Way more. It's been at least a minute! Oh, god.
My heart speeds up. This is not a taste. He's feeding on me.
"Eric," I say, "that's enough." I start to squirm when he doesn't heed my protest, but in reaction he only pushes his body closer to mine, effectively sandwiching me between him and the door.
"Eric! This is not a taste!" I try to push him away, but he's like a stone wall, and I can't move my legs at all. He pulls his head back for a second. I feel his tongue, warmed by my blood, lick the puncture wounds.
"I am tasting," he says, and his mouth is on my neck again. It vaguely occurs to me I might also have a hickey to cover up.
"That's deceiving!" Struggling isn't getting me anywhere, but that doesn't mean I stop. I whine and wriggle. Eric growls and pins my wrists against my sides.
Oh, god, he's going to drain me. I start to feel dizzy.
"I …" I can't tell him. Forming words is … the room is so dark all the sudden. Oh, no. "Lighthead," I manage to get out.
Just as I'm about ready to faint, Eric pulls back. His lips are red with my blood. I can barely stand up, but luckily Eric is still pressed against me. Hah, luckily. No, that's not lucky at all. Wow, I feel … so light. I guess blood is heavy? "You're slightly anemic," he says matter-of-factly. "That's why you're swooning even though I've taken relatively little from you."
"Oh," I breathe, fighting to keep my eyes open. "I didn't know."
"You need more iron in your diet." Delicately, he wipes away some of my blood trickling down the corner of his mouth.
"Okie."
What the … ?
It's dark. Completely dark. Oh, no, I'm blind!
Wait, that's jumping to conclusions. Surely the lights are just off. I roll over on to my side, feel around. Aha! My blackberry.
Hmm. I guess I passed out. According to my blackberry it's nearly seven in the morning, and after shining it around I find I'm on a beat up leather sofa in the office where Eric bit me. I have an awful headache.
At least I know he's gone to sleep now. I can't believe I fainted. God, how embarrassing. I'm eager to get out of here asap. I grab my purse (which seems to have been placed beside me on the sofa) and hastily quit the office, using my phone as a flashlight. Outside of the office, the lights are on, and Fangtasia looks even cheesier empty. All black and red and leather. I always thought the idea that this is what vampires are into was just a stereotype, but I guess not …
I hurry to the door, practically tripping out of my heels. I want to get home, now. I don't want to be here. I don't want to think of my blood in Eric's system. I don't want to think of his red lips. All I want is a cup of warm tea and a bath.
I reach the door … and it's locked. I have to idea how to open it. What the hell? What kind of door needs a key from the inside? It briefly occurs to me that Eric is trying to keep me here, but that's ludicrous and vain. There's no way I'm even slightly interesting to him … except for that he clearly enjoyed feeding on me. But whatever. I yank the handle repeatedly. Come on, come on. Open!
"You must be Marguerite!"
I start and whirl around. A blonde woman is standing there, decked out in full prostitute regalia, smiling goofily at me.
"Eric told me you'd be here," she says, coming out from behind the bar where she was doing who-knows-what. "I'm Ginger." She holds out her hand and I shake it, somewhat nervously.
"Uh, yeah. It's Daisy though. Can you let me out?"
"Oh, sure! Daisy. That's a pretty name. I like daisies." As she's pulling out her keys, and I'm feeling relief so intensely I could swoon, she says conversationally, "I know they can be a bit, frightening, huh? That's why you fainted? But they really aren't that bad once you get to know them. I'm a bit surprised Eric let you stay on that couch though."
"Well, what else would he have done with me?" I ask. "He couldn't have just tossed me out on the street."
She gives a short little giggle, as though I'm silly for think he wouldn't, and the door swings open.
I'm out of there with a quick goodbye and on my way. It might be rude, but fuck it. I want to get home.
I might be over-reacting, I realize halfway there. After all Eric didn't kill me, he technically answered every question he promised to, he let me sleep safely in his office (anywhere else in that bar I could've been a free-for-all snack), and even let me know I needed more iron. That was very helpful of him, actually. If he never told me and I were to keep forgetting to eat, I could end up fainting in any number of embarrassing situations. So really this whole experience was more beneficial than anything.
At home I do exactly what I planned. Tea, bath, thinking. I decide it'd be worth it to go back to Fangtasia, as I need a whole lot more for my article, but not tonight. Tonight I don't want to fear for my life. And I believe I'm supposed to meet Bill. I'll have to go find Sookie and see if that's still on. Then I find the morning newspaper, and the front page headline nearly bowls me over: Dead Woman Discovered in Local Cop's Car.
Oh, god. Oh, god. I'm going to faint. I met Andy Bellefleur last night. Oh my god. I drop the paper and run into the kitchen. The only food in my whole house is a bag of chips. Not exactly high in the iron and B-12 I need, but it's better than nothing at all, and I'm shortly stuffing my mouth with Lays. I need to breathe, I need to calm down, and I almost choke attempting this with a full mouth. I spit up half-chewed potato chips into the sink, clutching the edge.
Okay. Calm down, Daisy. Calm down. Look at the article. See? Andy's not being considered a suspect yet. No worries.
… Yet.
Ugh. I suddenly don't know if I'm up to meeting Bill tonight. I can't take all these vampires *and* murders at once. But I don't have Sookie's number to cancel so I'll have to go to Merlotte's again.
It's Monday night. I haven't really been out of the house since I canceled with Sookie. She was disappointed, but seemed to think it was for the better. She said she and Bill had something they needed to talk about anyway.
More importantly, I've mastered how to coverup bite marks. It takes some pretty expensive cover ups (I have three: liquid, matte, and mineral powder), but it's almost invisible now. Also I haven't gotten a damn thing done when it comes to my article, and my deadline is tomorrow. I have five sentences. Five. I've put this off far too long, and now I can't think straight. It's too late to go back to Fangtasia and get more vampire input. I'm stuck with Eric's one useful answer.
I need to buckle down. I have less than 24 hours to bullshit this whole article and keep my job. And in order to do that … I will need snacks.
I prepare myself a snack tray. At the grocery store, I went in intending to buy only healthful, organic, iron-enriched foods, but somehow came out with mostly pudding, chocolate muffins, onion dip, artificial fruit leather, cheese crackers, fudge sickles, toaster strudels, and grapes. I also got some Alaskan caught salmon, almonds, eggs, and dried apricots (all high in iron) but so far have not touched them. I pile small portions of all this junk food on to my tray and head into the living room, where I set it down on my Ikea coffee table, and open up my laptop.
As my fingertips graze the keyboard, I notice something.
"Ewww." When was the last time I painted my nails? The coral polish is chipped as all hell, plus my nails could use some serious buffering. I know I'm not going to be able to focus on my article with nails like these. I have no choice but to fix them.
It's as I'm painting the last nail on my right hand that I realize this red is perhaps too red, and so close in color to blood that I almost consider removing it. But … it's kind of enchanting, and red complements so many of my clothes. Besides, nail-polish remover is a pain in the ass and I don't want to deal with that again.
Finishing my left hand, I suddenly hear a low voice from outside. As I'm seated by an open window, it's not something that'd normally frighten me. But that voice sounds damned familiar. I set down the polish and lean over my armrest, out the window. I see a shadow at the house across from mine … a tall, blond shadow. I can't hear what's being said, but I'm certain that's Eric. I'm leaning all the way outside my window now, and I can just make out something about a leg. Why is Eric talking to my neighbor about legs? What the hell kind of trouble has my neighbor gotten into?
After a few minutes Eric is invited into neighbor's house. I can't believe it. Before I realize what I'm doing, I've crawled out the window. I feel silly considering my front door is like a room away, but I've already done it, so oh well.
I can still hear voices. It seems Neighbor's window is open as well. I slink over, all stealth, and peer in.
Sure enough, there's Eric, and — someone who fits the description of Lafayette (who I never got to meet due to his being missing). What nearly makes me fall over is that Lafayette is drinking Eric's blood. What the … !
Not knowing what to make of this, I slide away from the window. Eric is saying something about flying, and I know he'll be coming out the door to my left any second. Now the question is … do I run and hide? Or do I take the convenient opportunity to get more vampire info for my article?
I realize my heart is pounding. And I realize that means Eric already knows someone (me) is out here. Damn it. I have no choice.
The door swings open and closes with two quick clicks, and there's Eric, gazing down at me. I feel like a kid caught stealing candy.
"Hi," I say.
"Marguerite," he acknowledges. "What are you doing?"
I attempt a casual shrug. "I was just … admiring Lafayette's lovely … siding." I caress my hand up the house in apparent appreciation. "Yep, it's way nicer than mine." What the hell am I doing? I could shoot myself.
Eric seems amused. "I see. And it was necessary to stand in his garden to do this?"
"Hey, speaking of questions," I reply, stepping onto the porch with him. "Since you're here, I've prepared a more coher— er, comprehensive list of topics I'd like to know vampire opinions on."
"I don't have time."
"Where you going?" I ask, jumping into his path as he makes to leave.
Eric looks down at me like I've lost my mind, and opens his mouth to say something but — surprisingly — immediately closes it, and a thoughtful expression crosses his features. I watch expectantly, hoping privately this expression has nothing to do with killing me, and wait nearly two full minutes. Eric apparently have no qualms about keeping me in suspense.
Finally he says, "Follow me" and sweeps away, barely glancing at me.
I obey, but run around into his path again and hold out a hand. He stops inches before bumping into me. Pushing down the fear that rises in me at this proximity, I command, "Wait. Where are we going?"
"Dallas," he answers succinctly.
I gape. "Oh …. uh, why?"
"Are you interested in learning more about vampire culture or not?"
I make a split second decision, and go completely against my gut. "Yes, yes! Um, I need to pack a bag though."
Eric nods, still thoughtful. I'm baffled as to why he'd invite me in the first place. Man, I wish I could read minds! "Do that while I call the airport to arrange your ticket. Where's your house?"
"Follow me." I whirl around, quite pleased to be the one making that order. I stride up to my front door with a confident bounce in my step, but when I get there it falters at once because I realize my door is locked and I don't have the key on me. Oh, god.
Eric, being the highly astute vampire bastard he is, notices the change. "Something wrong?"
"I think I accidentally locked my door." I try the handle for show. "Yep, locked. Haha, woops! Well, I'll have to go in through the window." I march around to the side of my tiny house and, to my dismay, Eric follows.
"Conveniently open," he states, smiling wickedly.
My cheeks flush. "It's a nice night."
The embarrassment culminates when I remember I'm wearing a dress. But there's no turning back now. Awkwardly, I manage to swing one leg over the sill without flashing Eric in the process, and the rest is cake. I nearly bump my head on the windowpane, but remember to duck not a second too soon. Once in, I head off to my bedroom, but Eric calls back,
"Aren't you going to invite me in?"
I stop.
"I need to call the airport."
I turn around. "You don't have a cellphone?"
Eric shrugs is an obviously fake innocent way. "I seem to have forgotten it."
I dip around to the other room and come out with my own cellphone. I toss it at him, and he catches it deftly, his expression bemused. "You can use mine." Not sparing him a second glance, I hurry off to my bedroom. I can't help but feel proud of myself, but I have other things to worry about. 1.) I am going to Dallas with a vampire I hardly know, whose reasons for inviting me are questionable, 2.) my deadline is tomorrow which means I'll have to whip something up on the plane and email it in when we arrive, and 3.) what the hell am I gonna pack?
Okay. It's summer. This is Dallas. So I need … glamorous sun dresses? Hm, don't have many of those. And I don't have much time. I don't want to make us late for flight, especially after refusing to invite Eric into my house. I'm sure he's already annoyed enough. Hastily, I grab five random dresses from my closet, a fancy white suit I bought on a whim, a few pairs of pajamas, and as many panties and bras as will fit in my duffel bag. I throw in sneakers, sensible heels, and I slip on my favorite flats. Adding my overnight bag with all the necessities, I'm ready.
Physically, at least. Mentally? I'm about to die.
I must be insane to do this.
Back in the living room, Eric is flipping my cell closed, his eyes directed through the window toward the corner of the room. I turn to see what he's looking at.
My snack tray.
"Trying to gain weight?" he asks.
I drop my duffel bag with a huff. "No," I intone, and quickly run the tray to the kitchen, snatching a pudding cup for the plane ride. I throw it in my purse.
The house needs to be locked up before I leave, so I go back to Eric and, as calmly as possible, shut the window in his face, telling him I'll be right out. He remains there, watching me. Doing my best to ignore this, I lock it and shut the blinds.
Outside, I find him at the door.
"You certainly took your time," he remarks.
I frown. "I went as fast I could."
Eric hums. "I sometimes forget how slow humans move."
AN: Sorry for the delay! Work has been hectic. Look for another update on Thursday, or if not then then Saturday at the latest! I hope this has lived up to expectations. :)