Author's Note: I'm so intensely flattered at all the positive reviews. So flattered that I just HAD to put up another chapter ASAP. I apologize for the lack of beta reading but I don't have the best patience when it comes to proofing. If anyone is interested let me know =)

Disclaimer: Again, not my world. Just playing in Charlaine Harris's imagination.

Still Eric's POV

CHAPTER 2

It is still funny to me how oblivious humans are to threats. Granted, the presence of an undercover cop in Fangtasia is generally more threatening to the vampires; but fang-bangers are not immune to police violence. They are blood traitors which is entirely more threatening. Monsters, beasts—we are easy to dismiss. Nevertheless, there was no part or change in the crowd despite the unusual convergence of vampires on one solitary man. Typically I encourage less ostentatious behavior, but we needed to take care of the threat quickly. Three of my most terrifying subjects "gently" escorted him off my property. I forbid them to kill him, but I most certainly hope they feed. A vampire hating cop with visible fang marks…now that will go over well at the prescient.

I grinned to myself—my mind savoring the image of a certain blonde enchantress. I had always particularly enjoyed keeping female companions; their emotionalism and energy are quite exciting for someone…in my position. However, they quickly bore me with little substance to compliment their physical beauty. But my little telepath had it all—brains and looks. She certainly knew to make herself useful quickly. Shame she left. In all the commotion, I watched Bill convinced her that they had overstayed their welcome. And although he had, Sookie most certainly had not.

No matter. I believe my dear Sookie deserves a reward. A reward I intend to take to her personally.

"Pam, have Stan bring the Vette around. I have business in Bon Temp."

She smiled deviously, "Well tell your 'business' I said hello."

After a couple of innocent glamours before dawn, I was able to figure out Miss Stackhouse's place of residence and her workplace. The people in her backwater town did not seem to think too highly of her. Not surprising. Sookie may be mortal, but not mortal enough to be accepted. Her gift would be her downfall with these people. But to my world, to the supernatural world, it would earn her respect and fealty. I resolved last night to come pay her a visit, and that was what I was on my way to do. Dusk had just set and I was not needed at Fangtasia till midnight.

I pulled into Merlotte's—where I heard Sookie had been working for almost 2 years—on a gravel road…lovely. I certainly hope the inside of the establishment was more promising that what can be loosely called a road. It wasn't. The general air was dilapidated trying to pass for "homey". The women were either barely recognizable as females or made up within an inch of their lives.

And then I saw her. She was grabbing drinks from the bartender in her crisp white uniform and dangerously short shorts that hugged her ass like a glove. Part of me wanted to thank, part of me wanted to kill the man tending bar that I presumed was her boss. I breathed in deeply, catching the surprising scent of shifter. Interesting. My instincts were attempting to isolate the trace until Sookie came up to me, a clearly nervous smile plastered to her face.

"Mr. Northman, what can I do for you this evening?" a saccharinely sweet voice emerged from my Sookie's lips. Ah-ha, I should have assumed the only way a girl like her could survive in a town like this was by hiding who she really was.

"True Blood. O Negative. And help for the problem you came to me with last night," I said with my voice dropping, slowly and deliberately.

Her eyes flashed in understanding, but that same annoying voice answered, "Absolutely! Have a seat and I'll have it warmed up for you in a flash."

I helped myself to the nearest booth to wait. But it wasn't long. She immediately went for my order, appeared to be quite earnestly begging a friend to cover her tables, and with a smile of satisfaction came over with my drink.

"Sorry bout that. Aileen can be a real bitch sometimes. It's real nice to see you again. I hope everything went over well last night. Bill," she sighed, rolling her eyes slightly, "Bill wanted to leave."

Her smell was intoxicating. Still not marked; at least Bill is going to be a gentlemen about this. His Civil War values are so out of place at times; and by the eye roll I just witnessed—he could use any advantage he has.

"Well that is a shame. I was certainly enjoying your beautiful company," I purred—pleased to see her pulse jump on those beautiful veins. Taking her hand for a moment, feeling her pulse skyrocket once more, I said as sincerely as I could when I was alive, "Thank you for your aid last night. It will be remembered." But that was about as much sincerity as I could manage. Vikings were not raised with compassion.

Sitting back, I continued, "And as means of recompense, I have seen both of those women at Fangtasia. The plainer one kept to herself and mostly people watched. Dawn…was an "active" participant. She liked pain," I said after some thought. "But a vampire did not kill these women. They would have been drained or turned, never left for dead."

A moment of silence passed. I tried to understand her silence. I assumed she was struggling with regret and sadness that I could not clear her brother as she had hoped.

But then she said, "Thank you. Thank you for going out of your way to let me know. Do not hesitate to ask me directly for help when you so need it. I trust honesty." She pulled pen from her hair to briefly scrawl her cell phone number on the back of a napkin. "I have to go back to work, but call me." And with a wink and a small but seductive smile, she went back to her customers.

Hm. How…surprising.

I would certainly have a great deal to think about on the drive back to Fangtasia.

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