Chapter 4:
"You didn't answer my question."
Eric paid her a wicked smile that left her conflicted as hell. Once, she'd wanted everything that smile promised. Now, she knew exactly what he was, what he was capable of.
How was it then, that she still wanted to crawl back into bed with him?
"I was saving your life, Sookie, but now that I've succeeded at that, I'm not quite sure what to do with you."
Sookie vaguely remembered her fight with Marshall. All the blood. Stabbing him through the heart, and still he threw her across the room. That was the last thing she remembered. The dreadful feeling of powerlessness, floating through the air with nothing to stop her fall but a brick wall.
If she'd crashed into a brick wall though, she certainly didn't feel like it. There were no bruises, no cuts, no abrasions.
Sookie felt good as new, and suddenly terrified for it.
"What have you done?" she asked quietly, searching her arms for some sign of salvation. Some mark of her battle in the coven house. But none remained; her skin was smooth and flawless. It looked healthier than normal, really. Almost glowing.
"You know," Eric answered, just as hushed. Inwardly he braced himself, as much as anyone ever can, who is fool enough to remain in the path of a hurricane.
Sookie gritted her teeth. Anger would carry her through this disaster. This violation of her free will. Anger was her go-to emotion these days, when her world turned upside down. It hadn't always been so, but she'd changed since last Eric knew her.
She adapted to survive.
Even he could respect that.
"How fucking dare you," Sookie hissed. Her hands clenched into fists, and instinctually she searched the room for something that would be useful as a weapon. Nothing came to light, and she wondered if Eric had purposefully cleared out everything of a pointy or blunt nature out before she woke.
Eric shook his head. "You were dying, Sookie. You were dying in my arms, and I couldn't…" His voice trailed off, adding more to the thousands of words between them left unsaid. They hung above them as a dark cloud, waiting to bring the thunder and lightning.
"You should have let me die!"
Eric rolled his eyes at her, and her blood boiled for it.
How dare he dismiss her?
She hated the high handed actions of vampires; how they saw fit to manipulate mortals lives as they pleased, simply because they had lived so long, and felt certain they knew best. Felt certain they had a right.
Once, as a younger woman, naïve girl that she was, she'd found it comforting. That Eric had answers, when she felt lost. That he was the sort of man that knew what to do in any sort of situation.
But now, it only infuriated her. She made her own path now. She needed no one to decide for her.
"There are worse fates, than being bound to me, Sookie Stackhouse. Be grateful for the life you've been given."
"I can't imagine anything worse, actually, than being chained metaphysically to a filthy vampire like you."
Eric's expression darkened, and she could feel his anger rising to match hers through the bond. It was the strangest feeling, almost like another skin beneath her own. She could feel him, know him, and did not fancy the idea at all.
"Why, Sookie? Why do you hate me with such voracity? I have done nothing to deserve this."
The storm clouds gathered upon Sookie's expression, the lightning flashing in her eyes.
"You know fucking well why."
"I know you've been lying to yourself all this time, about me. I have my theories."
"I just bet you do."
The vampire slayer didn't seem interested, but as he narrowed his eyes, the vampire decided that night, she would finally listen.
He remembered the girl that had come to him, ten years ago. Frightened but brave, she'd waltzed back into his bar, without a single soul to accompany her. He remembered her from her first visit, with a group of curious friends. They'd flirted briefly, just enough to make him hope she would come back, even as he suspected it wouldn't be so good for him.
He'd bought her a drink but disappeared before anything more could come of it.
Something about her unsettled him; he'd had the feeling that she could turn his world on its head with just a bat of those cornflower blue eyes. With a whispered word.
It was an unheard of feeling for Eric, but little did he know.
That second night, in a dress white as fresh snow, she'd positively glowed against the tiresome gloom. He'd regarded her amusedly as she came to stand before him, clasping her hands nervously behind her. Ever the lady.
Yes? he'd asked. He couldn't help but acknowledge her, its was all too strange not to investigate. This pretty girl in a sundress, gazing at him expectantly with such large blue eyes. It was damn near surreal.
Mr. Eric Northman?
I am.
She'd bit her lip in such an enticing way, gathering her words. I hear you're a Sheriff?
He'd weighed her with a penetrating gaze that sent most mortals scrambling, but she only lifted her chin defiantly, standing strong against his scrutiny. There was something different about this one, he'd immediately known, and it promised to break the tedium of his usual routines in podunk northern Louisiana.
She didn't respond to his glamour. His power parted around her, as a rock in a stream.
So very interesting.
That I am. And you are?
Sookie Stackhouse, sir. And I was hoping you could help me.
Most women wanted sex from Eric. Blood. Oblivion. Money. But the fact that this young lady from a backwater called Bontemps had the audacity to ask for his help as a sheriff, an officer of the law, albeit vampire law, charmed Eric somehow. It was refreshing, to say the least. Apparently her ne'er do well brother had disappeared off the face of the earth, and the bumbling authorities in Bontemps proved useless.
What makes you think I would be much better? he'd asked, and received his second hint of the rare gift the girl possessed.
I can sense it. I can feel your…strength, the weight of your experience. I have no one else to turn to, Mr. Northman. Please help me?
Usually at this point of an exchange, he would ask, What's in it for me? He would prod, push buttons, test just how far he could go. Demand a sexual favor, just to see what kind of woman he was dealing with.
If they agreed, he would bed them, but never respect them.
If they refused, he usually would too, for his own gratification.
But not this one. This one would be different, he knew immediately, because the only thing he found he wanted was to win a smile like the one she'd flashed him the night before.
That in itself should have been his warning. His sign, to leave this one be.
Women had always been a weakness of his, even as a mortal man.
Even now, he felt that weakness, watching Sookie standing in the center of his bedroom, fists clenched angrily, jaw set in a sharp line. She'd paid him insults most mortals would die for, yet still he indulged her. He still couldn't shake her from his system, and it was an infuriating thing.
His voice came quietly, yet somehow the words seemed to reverberate through the room, penetrating the quiet like a gunshot. "I didn't kill your grandmother, Sookie. I know you blame me for her loss, but I had nothing to do with it."
Eric thought back on the scene he'd walked into, in the quiet little farmhouse on a fateful August night. Adele Stackhouse's blood pooled in the kitchen, smeared through the hall. Her broken body left to rest in a heap of limbs upon the front porch. It had been a grisly sight Sookie chanced upon, Eric covered in Adele's blood.
He'd gathered the old woman in his arms, hoping a chance still remained for revival. But she'd been well and truly gone, long before he hit the scene.
Sookie never really gave him a chance to explain, after that.
The rest was history.
Sookie in turn raised an eyebrow, disdain written clearly across her features. She sneered as she imparted, "I know you didn't kill Gran, Eric. If you had, I would have sought my vengeance long ago."
"You couldn't kill me, Sookie."
"Maybe I would have died trying. Maybe I would have succeeded. Fact of the matter is, I killed Bill Compton about five years ago."
What she didn't tell was that the vampire had practically let her do it. The guilt of a thousand bloody crimes had been eating away at William, and he welcomed a final release with open arms.
She'd been more than happy to oblige him.
"Then why…" For a split second, all the surprise, and all the pain that ripped through Eric's soul lay bare to view upon his face, in his eyes, before he reined in his outward emotions. Anger was the best he could do; apathy at that point simply was not an option.
Eric seemed too pole-axed for speech, so Sookie obligingly filled the charged silence between them. "I asked you to help me find my brother, Eric. And you did. You found him, and chained him up in your basement, and tortured him for at least a month! All the while leading me on, making me think he was still out there, somewhere, while you took your sweet time in seducing me. You made me love you, while…"
Eric's face fell at the accusation. Any one else before him, and he would have denied it to the ground.
But she knew all too well. Skewed as it was, he considered it a sort of gift, that he would not lie to her. Perhaps it was out of respect for what they'd shared, long ago. What they'd been to each other, and what could have been.
Chained Jason up in his basement for a month?
Well, maybe, but only a little…
The brat had deserved it, a thousand times over.
Sookie turned from him, unable to look him in the eye. Suddenly he appeared behind her, lifting large hands to rest upon her shoulders, wishing he could comfort her. Wishing she could expel some of this fury pent up inside. It would eat her alive, he knew, if she let it boil on.
She turned suddenly, striking him in the chest with such force he stumbled backwards. "Don't you dare touch me, Eric Northman!"
He repressed a snarl, muscles corded with tension in his neck and arms.
His voice came low and deadly, a tone most would do well to be wary of. "Your brother kidnapped one of my vampires, Sookie, with his V-addicted friends. He kept Bill Compton chained in your Grandmother's cellar for months, drinking from him. I had to find out what they'd done with Bill. I did what I had to do."
Bill had been chained in the cellar, and when an ever compassionate Adele Stackhouse found the emaciated vampire, naturally she'd freed him. Her last act of mercy, for Bill had been too far gone to stop himself from draining Adele, savagely. It was the aftermath Eric had found, and felt so certain he'd been blamed for.
"You didn't have to torture him. You should have told me the moment you had him."
A cold laugh escaped Eric. "That pathetic sibling of yours couldn't imagine the true horror of real torture, Sookie. Scared him, yes I did, but I was exceedingly gentle compared to what he deserved."
"Go to hell!"
Eric grabbed Sookie, and she could not fight his grip this time. He lifted her to her tiptoes, fingers digging into her arms with enough force to leave bruises. The vampire's eyes bore into hers with all the intensity of an Artic storm. "I saved your brother's life! Instead of killing him, as my duty as Sheriff dictated, or turning him over to the Magister, a true master of torture, I allowed your human authorities to deal with him. It was a gentle sentence, Sookie, and I did it for you."
Jason was still in jail, in fact, and physically in one piece.
Mentally, was a completely different matter.
Something had broken inside Jason Stackhouse, and Sookie had always assumed it was torture that left him a shade of the fun-loving man he once was.
She'd seen things in his head, images, though broken ones. A drippy basement, filled with chains and shadows thick as tar. And Eric, towering as a bear, roaring in his fury, fangs drawn and death flashing in his eyes. Those were the images that frightened her most in Jason's mind. That haunted her. The monster beneath the façade she knew as her handsome, clever vampire sheriff.
Pain burned in her arms, but Sookie would be damned if she would admit Eric was hurting her.
But he seemed to remember of his own accord the fragility of her mortal flesh. Eric lowered her back to her feet, releasing her slowly. Taking a deep breath, Sookie stepped away, wrapping her own arms around herself.
"You broke his mind," she accused quietly, shaking her head, over and over.
She didn't sound so certain anymore.
"No, lover," he answered gently. "The V broke his mind. He drank too much, and it drove him mad."
It was the reason drawing a true confession took so long. Jason had been too high to be coherent. It took weeks for the overcooked addict to come down from the blood.
And maybe, in a dark corner of his heart, he'd schemed to buy himself more time with Sookie.
Things had just been going so well.
"I don't believe you."
Her protest came meek, without conviction.
She didn't know what she believed anymore.
But the vampire was looking at her with an expression she didn't quite think he could fake. It was a mixture of regret and longing so human, that were she not so prideful she would have gone to him. As it was, however, she went in the exact opposite direction, backpedaling towards the door.
With sad eyes he watched her go.
In a perfect world, the truth could have set them free. But truth could be just as damning as fiction. Just as painful.
Ego was the true enemy, and both possessed more than their share.
"Am I your prisoner now?" she asked, pressing her palm to the door.
Eric wanted to say yes. He wanted to keep her with him, hold her there in his bedroom until she loved him once more.
"No, Sookie."
He died a little inside, knowing once more he would have to let her go.
"Then let me go, Eric. Thank you for saving my life. But I want to go now."
"Fine. Tomorrow."
Her brow furrowed in response.
"No. Now."
"It's almost dawn," he protested, winning a cynical laugh from the vampire slayer. "You know we're in the middle of nowhere. What are you going to do? Walk back to town? Miles and miles in bare feet and a nightgown?"
"So naturally, I have to spend the night with you, here, until the sun sets again. Devious bastard."
With a snarl, Eric unlocked the door, swinging it open violently. With a wave of his arm he invited her to step outside the bedroom. "Go anywhere you like, Sookie. You can sleep on the floor, for all I care."
Head held high, Sookie crossed the threshold, but it was the roll of her eyes that broke him. The bond burned in his veins, demanded that he take her, press her skin to his for the pure sake of relief. He could no longer ignore this desire, and so the vampire grabbed her up once more, one long arm wrapping about her waist, pulling her flush against him. His mouth sought hers with the tenacity of a heat seeking missile, and claimed her with all the fury of a wildfire. She pushed against him for a moment, struggled for two, before succumbing to the demands of his lips upon hers. They battled for territory, tongues exploring the fine line between passion and violence. Sookie's hand fisted in his hair, nails digging into his shoulder enough to draw blood as she sought some hold on reality amidst the madness between them.
He released her as suddenly as he'd grabbed her, and she stumbled just a bit on legs unsure of the ground beneath them. Her eyebrows shot sky high as she watched him close the door in her face. But the lock did not click into place, almost as though he dared her to join him once more.
To admit that she wanted him, and get it over with.
"Smug bastard," she snarled.
On the other side of the door, Eric leaned upon one arm, eyes pressed closed as he fought to rein in every part of him that demanded he grab her up again. Drag her to the bed, and show her whose body belonged to whom. A fine tremor ran through him, a painful ache. He listened carefully, and only as he heard her pad to the spare bedroom, locking the door behind her, did he allow himself to relax just a little.
Sheriff Northman slid to the floor, arms wrapped around his knees. Only Sookie could make him feel this way. Filled with doubt-only she could make him question himself, and the life he'd built for himself.
Only then did the full ramifications of his actions hit him. He'd blood bonded a dhampir-a creature vampire law demanded he kill on sight.
If the Magister knew, it would be the end of him.
Yet somehow he knew also, that the end of Sookie would be the end of him.
The noose was practically looped around his neck already, he thought with a defiant laugh. And he balanced upon a tightrope. A misstep to either side would be his undoing, but he would do it gladly. Perhaps he didn't have to lose her again after all, if the marks on his back were any indication of the feelings she still kept bottled up inside. His shapely lips, swollen from their torrid kiss, still tasted of her. Hungrily, he licked them.
Tomorrow was another night.
Tomorrow could bring anything.
The vampire collapsed into bed, and as his eyes slipped closed, he willed tomorrow to come more quickly.
A/N: I have to thank everyone for their wonderful responses to this story, I appreciate it ever so much!