Chapter 5
True to his word, Eric let Sookie go without a fight. She greeted him the next night with a demeanor colder than ice, and he knew better than to ask anything of her. Through the bond she felt his need tug at the deepest rooms of her heart, but she would not be swayed.
The job was done, and she returned to New Orleans, hoping to forget any of it ever happened. Hoping to God the burning she felt beneath her skin would fade and disappear with time. She could be stubborn. She was the most bull-headed person she knew, and with a little luck she hoped it would be enough to see her through.
She knew she ran from her past, that things would never quite be the same, for her own peace of mind. She'd liked having self-righteous indignation on her side, and she could still muster more than her share of it, but the niggling knowledge that Eric wasn't quite the villain she'd thought slowly began to burrow beneath her skin.
But neither, she reminded herself, constantly, was he innocent.
Well, she'd known that all along.
Then, the dreams started. At first, they were only re-iterations of her own torrid memories with the vampire, certain details tweaked here and there, rendering them devastating as possible. But the bond couldn't possibly have been satisfied with just that, and it soon began to spin new scenes of love behind her eyelids, as she tried for deep sleep and failed miserably every night.
It became apparent, even to her co-workers, that something had changed on the job in Bontemps.
She'd still managed to ignore it, until the night it almost got her killed. Lack of sleep was making her sloppy, and so her C.O. sent her on a mandatory sabbatical. "You're the best slayer we've got, Sookie, but you're no good to anyone on a slab."
Basically she had a month to get her shit together, or else.
The or else was laughable to Sookie, to say the least. Being a vampire slayer for the state of Louisiana gave her a legal avenue, but she was so much more than a badge. Sookie was dhampir, a born slayer. She would hunt vampires until the day she died, because somehow the wires in her brain were programmed to do so.
So how did Eric slip through the cracks?
Tricky bastard.
Perhaps against her better judgment, Sookie decided to spend her sabbatical making some peace with her past. She'd let the old farmhouse deteriorate over the years, and Gran would have cried, could she have seen the state of it. No matter that only now could Sookie really even set foot inside without being taken by the urge to run and run and never look back.
Paint, she reasoned, surveying the beaten and peeling outside of the house. This is going to take a lot of paint.
III
Eric sensed her nearness like a shark senses blood in the water. It drove him to swim in circles, crazy with the scent. He stood stubborn until he could simply take no more, the burning longing to be near her a near crippling thing. He followed the feel of her through the night, until his flight brought him to the yard of the old Stackhouse farm. The vampire was surprised to find a fresh coat of paint had been bestowed upon the outside, and it appeared there were improvements being made on the inside as well.
Only a single heartbeat pulsed inside, high up on the second floor, and it was with a sense of deja-vu that he flew up to perch upon Sookie's windowsill. He watched her in her bed, tossing and turning, his name on her lips subsequently as a curse and a prayer. She mumbled something in her sleep, and he felt the barriers that kept him from an unwelcoming home vanish into nothing.
Vaguely wondering if he were signing his own death warrant, Eric found he could not stop himself as he raised the window, slipping inside Sookie's bedroom as he had the first night he'd made love to her. He watched her hungrily as she arched under the covers, an incriminating groan betraying the dreams playing out within a sleeping mind. A fine sheen of sweat beaded upon her forehead, and as Eric reached out to wipe it away she stilled at first contact, her skin feverish to the touch.
Eric dampened his passion enough to survey her with a medical eye, and could see the tired lines about her eyes, the dark circles beneath them. He could feel her exhaustion as though it were his own, and wondered when was the last time the bond allowed her a decent night's rest?
Though he wanted to ravish her, Eric found himself kicking off his shoes, hanging his shirt upon the bedpost, and curling his long body around hers once more. Maybe it would be to his advantage to keep her sleep-deprived, but such a death would be an inglorious thing for a warrior such as her.
Maybe they could make it easy on themselves, and kill each other when she woke up?
Or maybe, just maybe, hell could freeze over, and they would reach an understanding someday.
III
Sookie awoke to dazzling rays of sunlight coming through the window, feeling strange in a way she couldn't identify at first.
It had been so long, but eventually she realized this was the sensation of a restful night's sleep.
She wondered how she'd gotten it, marveled at the pure unlikely hood. The dreams had become more intense, now that the distance between she and the Sheriff had shortened. Her skin ached with a burning desire, an itch she knew only Eric could scratch.
Even now, even after maybe getting some sleep, it still hovered in the background, the voice of need whispering in her ear. Slowly, it was driving her mad, and there had to be a resolution.
Sookie knew of one in particular, and her heart thundered in her chest at the thought of it. She mulled the possibility over breakfast, and her second and third cups of coffee.
It could be a very bad idea, she reasoned. But as dusk drew close, the madness grew to an intensity that struck her like a wave, nearly bringing her to her knees.
She couldn't run from it anymore, she realized. One way or another, this had to be resolved.
With a heavy but determined heart, Sookie watched the sun drop below the horizon, and picked up the phone.
III
As Eric flew through the air, he reflected back on the way Pam had walked into his office earlier in her black pleather vampire costume, high heels clicking upon the floor. Eric, you have a booty call. She'd smirked with the words, but deep down he could sense the hope in her. He'd been pacing like a tiger in a cage for months, and she knew his bond with the vampire slayer was the cause of it.
Sookie had left a simple message. My house, tonight, 11:00.
Landing on the porch soundlessly, the vampire felt a haunting echo in the sound of his feet upon the floor boards, walking to the front door. When last he'd walked this path, she'd cast him from the circle of light that was her life. Now, he found he hoped against the odds and fate to be admitted again
Eric came prepared for a number of things. Mostly, a fight, but certainly not for the sight that greeted him at the door. Sookie stood before him in a crimson red dress and four inch heels, a slightly bored expression upon her face.
Heart pounding in his chest, Eric schooled his features to convey the same. He sensed that she too felt nervous, and he tried to imagine what she could have in store for him. It was almost too cruel to hope, and he warily began to suspect a trick.
Sookie's breath caught in her chest at the sight of him upon her doormat once more. There he stood, tall and terrible, devastatingly handsome in his dark wash jeans and leather jacket, a sky blue shirt peeking through.
So he'd worn her favorite color, and she'd worn his. She could have accused him of being manipulative, but she played the same game.
"Took you long enough." She covered her fear with hostility.
One blond eyebrow raised high; he'd left as soon as she called, pausing only to change his shirt. Clamoring to her side, eager as a dog. The thought slightly sickened him, but he hoped it would pay off this night.
"Are you going to invite me in?"
Her heartbeat thundered in her ears and his, adrenaline roaring through her veins. She didn't realize he'd already won an invitation in her sleep, but he wanted to hear the words from her conscious lips.
Some acknowledgement that she needed him.
This was the moment of truth, in a way, and it scared the hell out of her. Once the words left her lips, would she be able to take them back? For a moment Sookie felt as a child once more, starstruck and wild with desire she didn't quite know what to do with. Cursing herself for cowardice, she squared her shoulders, eyes narrowing slightly. "You can come in." She dropped the invitation casually, turning on her heel to walk into the living room.
With a clenched fist, Eric watched her go. The dress was magnificent, hugging her hourglass figure, sliding against her swaying hips, legs strung taut in those dangerous shoes, that deliciously round derriere the very vision of temptation. She'd come full circle, no longer the innocent girl.
Once, her purity had appealed to him as a novelty, but this too intoxicated him. Now, she was woman as seducer. She was Venus, and he wanted to kneel at her feet and worship. She was Salome, and he longed to rip away all her veils. She was Freya, and Eric would have chosen her hall Sessrumnir over Valhalla to dwell in eternity.
She too could be Judith, he reminded himself, and he resolved to remember to watch his neck, to not fill the role of Holofernes this night.
He fought not to snatch her up immediately; to not bow to the hunter's instinct to claim what he felt his. The bond burned him like a brand over his heart, the pure longing an almost crippling thing, so much emotion tangled in his connection to Sookie.
Just when he thought he would be master of his heart once more, here she was, scrambling his insides. Love and pain, desire and anger, all balled into an inextricable knot within his soul, and at that moment he resented her for making him feel again.
He followed her into the living room with long legged steps, watching her cautiously, suddenly unsure if he would be predator or prey that night. Only she could make him second guess himself this way. She was a chink in his armor, leaving him vulnerable to love and the world.
Sookie crossed her arms, chin jutting in an infuriatingly defiant way.
There was a chasm filled with lost hopes between them, and neither quite felt certain how to cross it. What materials remained to build a bridge? Resentment would not do, nor would fear, or hate, or anger. Only temporarily could desire do the trick; the crossing wouldn't weather a storm. And always, life would bring a storm, the one thing they could count upon in an uncertain world.
"I see you've been here some time," said Eric, noting the state of the house around them. Clean and fresh once more, it must have taken weeks to accomplish. Weeks she'd withstood the ache to be near him, endured the pain stubbornly until finally, here he stood.
But she hadn't broken yet, he noted. Nothing had yet been decided, no solution proposed. Stubborn as she was, he imagined she could send him packing back through the front door, no matter what the price.
"I'm taking a brief sabbatical from New Orleans."
"Oh? Why would that be? I know how you enjoy slaughtering my kind."
"There are just so many of you that need killing," she quipped, eyes cool. But she had not answered his question, and Eric waited with the patience of the undead, still as a stone, seeming able to stand there for ages.
"I think you know why."
Maybe he did.
"I want to hear it from your own lips."
"Fine. I can't sleep. I can't focus on jack shit once the sun goes down, because you poured god knows how much of your blood down my throat, against my will."
"I saved your life."
"We've already had this conversation. I would have preferred you to let me die." She sighed, looking to the darkened window, the mantle, the chair. Anywhere but his eyes.
"Do you have a death wish, Sookie? You used to love life. You were so brilliant, before. Not a thing could quash your light for long."
Sookie's face immediately fell before she could catch her stumble; she knew she'd fallen far from her former self, and sometimes she even missed her innocence. But for some reason, the knowledge that she could no longer lighten a room simply by entering it cut her more deeply than she imagined it could. She looked back to him, blue-gray eyes suddenly flashing as bared steel. "I'm dhampir, Eric," she said sharply. "I accepted the fact long ago that I'm not going to live to see fifty."
Eric knew that he'd hurt her, and immediately wished he could take back the barb. He wished he could take back lots of things, with Sookie.
As man who lived by his sword centuries ago, he understood all too well this fatalistic sentiment. Only a warrior who accepted death's inevitability could fight with all his life. "I once thought the same thing, Sookie. But here I am."
By the narrowing of her eyes, it did not seem to please Sookie in the least. "Yes, here you are." In truth, inside she warred with herself.
"Perhaps instead of brandishing blame and arguing to no productive end, we could address the problem at hand?"
The vampire slayer smiled grimly. "Fine. I asked you here to propose a solution." Eric's lips curled wickedly with the thought of such a solution; by the looks of her dress, he imagined it could only be something quite interesting for them both.
"I'm all ears, lover."
Sookie gave a curt nod towards the couch, and something changed in her once more. Her confidence returned ten-fold; a certainty returning to her demeanor. "Have a seat."
Curious, Eric slowly crossed the room, eyes never leaving Sookie in the way one watches a predator nearby. Cautious, even while taken by its savage beauty.
The vampire slayer sauntered across the room to stand before him, feet spread, hands on her hips. "Maybe I accept that you did the best you could for Jason," she began. "I know he was a scoundrel and an addict and up to no good. But he was still my brother, and you kept the truth from me for a very long time."
"I regret that now," he honestly imparted.
"Do you?" The vampire slayer raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing him in the least.
"How can I convince you?"
The corner of Sookie's full red lips pulled up in a half smile.
"You can give me the reins."
Eric's eyebrows raised high. Did she mean what he thought she meant?
"In what way?"
"Put your arms up on the back of the couch."
Eric hesitated for a moment, before slowly complying to her wish, his long arms spread out to either side of him. "You aren't going to crucify me, are you?"
"Hmm. Tempting, but too messy. This is the deal, Eric. Your hands stay there, until I say otherwise. If you move them, I will stop. I will revoke your invitation to this house, and I will fight the bond until I die or go mad on principle."
"Stop what?" It seemed an important question to ask, before making any lasting agreements.
Sookie lifted her skirt slightly, straddling his lap, and Eric could not suppress a groan as her delicious weight settled down upon him. On instinct, his hands lifted, intent on caressing those sinuous thighs, but the vampire slayer held him down, a hand on either bicep. "Ah ah," she scolded.
A growl of frustration released from deep in Eric's chest; that primal sound, the vibration that shook her to the bone, tightened Sookie's nipples to hardened points beneath her dress. "So your intended plan for me is torture?"
"Not exactly. But I still don't quite trust you, Eric Northman. You frighten me, yet for some reason I trust your word, once you give it. So tell me you agree to my terms."
"Why can I not simply promise not to hurt you?"
Sookie shook her head no. It wouldn't be enough, he could see.
What Sookie Stackhouse required was total surrender, or else she would walk out the door.
He believed she would, utterly and completely.
The thought terrified him, he found. It seemed like the worst possible thing in the world that could possibly befall him, to lose her again, and so at that moment, for the first time in his life with a woman or a man, Eric consented to domination. Maybe there were no shackles, no whips and chains, but the concept remained completely the same.
"Very well," he said quietly. "Do your worst."
Sookie bit her lip apprehensively. She realized at that moment she hadn't expected her plan to work. The thought of Eric Northman submitting to anyone was such a thing of absolute absurdity, she didn't think she would ever live to see the day. What did it mean, that he would, to her?
As she reached out, Sookie's hand trembled slightly, until anchoring itself above Eric's heart. That great muscle beat against his ribcage, a slow but strong thunder, and a slight shudder took her at the memory of the way he'd once loved her. The way she used to sit upon him in this very same way, and the pleasures he would show her, the sweet things he would whisper in her ear. She squeezed shut her eyes, chasing away the memory, as her small hand gripped the fabric of his blue shirt.
When she opened her eyes once more, she found Eric wearing his usual knowing smirk. But she found the light in his eyes did not quite match the arrogance in his smile. In those ice blue orbs burned something raw, something almost fragile, and Sookie's heart clenched for the sight of it.
How dare he? How dare he invoke such deeply-buried longings in her soul, how dare he make her even begin to think he'd ever really loved her? Angrily, Sookie ripped the buttons of his shirt, sending them flying across the room as she bared his chest. How dare he spare her life, so now she could no longer control her longing to be with him? She'd beaten it, before. She'd pushed it down to a dungeon so deep and dark, she felt certain it would never be heard from again.
Apparently, she'd been wrong.
Eric watched the desire, fury, and confusion play across Sookie's features. Her fingers were warm and slid invitingly across the contours of his torso, sending thrills to spider across his nervous system, but the pain in her eyes almost ruined it all.
Ah, but there was sweet physical relief in the skin contact for both of them. This fact could not be denied, and it was the first time since leaving Eric's lair months ago that once more Sookie felt like a healthy human being. There was a niggling fear in the back of her mind, that she would not be able to send Eric away, even if he misbehaved.
As he always did.
It wasn't fair in the least, and the feeling of being trapped only fueled her anger.
"Off," she demanded, tugging at his shirt, and Eric sat up, allowing her to pull it from his shoulders, cooperating in its divestment and returning his hands to their place. Sookie knew she would always be moved by the sight of him, no matter what their circumstance. She felt frozen for several moments, caught upon the vision of that beautiful body that had not changed in the least over the years, still smooth and chiseled in all its pale perfection.
Several moments too long, for Eric, for he pleaded in a whispered hush, "Sookie, please touch me."
Awoken from her trance, the vampire slayer adjusted her seat upon his lap, shifting slightly in a way that made him groan once more. His hands burned with the need to grab her up, the desire to tear away the dress, hungry for every inch of her. "Hush," she scolded him, a single finger pressed to his full lips. He startled her by taking that finger into his mouth, sucking greedily, blunt teeth grazing the pad of her finger in a way that sent a jolt straight between her thighs.
He hadn't moved his hands, but she'd said nothing against taking an initiative with his mouth.
Sookie's other hand slid into his hair, sending a shiver down his spine before her grip tightened, pulling him back. She gave him no time to complain, for her mouth settled upon his, tasting him hungrily. The kiss was a torrid, furious thing, and she pulled away gasping.
Sometimes vampires could forget the human need for oxygen.
Trailing down the strong line of his jaw, Sookie traced the shell of Eric's ear with her tongue, winning a gasp of approval as she nibbled upon the lobe. She drove him mad with her mouth, kissing and licking the column of his neck, his collarbone, teeth grazing his nipple in a way that made him harden to painful proportions. She could see that he verged on ripping the seams of his designer jeans, but still, she teased him.
As Sookie knelt before him, her tongue delving inside his waistband, Eric's grip upon the back of the couch caused the old wood to creak. "By Odin, you are going to kill me," he sighed, the tendons of his thighs strung taut as her nails grazed them.
"It would serve you right."
The clear metallic snap of her fingers freeing the button of his jeans rang throughout the room, and her eyes locked with his as she drew them down his hips and long legs. Eric did not seem to mind being the only one without clothes, though perhaps he felt slightly annoyed.
Lightly, her fingers toyed with the coarse blond hair upon his legs, as she regarded his manhood pensively. It stood proud and tall against his belly, smooth head gleaming with small drops of anticipation. This was what women threw themselves at his feet for? Yes, it was plenty nice, a gracious plenty, as her Gran would say. But it wasn't exactly the truth. Amidst sexual satisfaction, she reckoned most women wanted his smile just as much as his cock. They wanted to feel special in Eric's arms. They wanted to mean something to a great power like him.
She'd been dumb enough to fall for it once, she reasoned. How could she judge anyone else for the same folly? She thought of the despair clinging to the walls of Fangtasia, the establishment steeped in the stench of human sorrow. In human longing, to find someone else to share this dark and lonely world with. She'd glimpsed that darkness from a very young age; solitude was an old friend of hers, she knew all too well.
She'd thought she'd beat the odds in finding Eric, basking in his love, until it all turned out to be a lie. And every relationship since him, paltry as they were in comparison, also ended the same way. At that moment she felt the world outside this house as a vast and overwhelming sea of darkness, a void waiting to chew her up and swallow her whole. Her nails dug slightly into Eric's leg with the thought, and his brow furrowed with concern as he watched her musings of her demons fly across her face.
"What are you thinking, Sookie?"
Her eyes rolled up to meet his, filled with a weight he knew all too well. Put simply, they were years manifest upon the soul, and Sookie seemed to have accumulated far more than her share in the past decade.
A small part of her yearned to confide in him, before pride quickly clamped down on the notion, locking it up tight. "Nothing you need to worry about."
He would have argued, but for her hot mouth encircling the head of his cock killing any intelligible thing he might have said. She chose the perfect distraction, toying with the thick vein with her tongue, pumping him up and down. As he bumped the back of her throat Eric shuddered. "I'm going to come if you don't stop," he confessed in a husky voice, certain Adele's couch would bear the imprints of his large hands forever more.
Sookie drew back, wiping a drop of moisture from the corner of her mouth with her thumb. "Well, we wouldn't want that."
She straddled his lap, and it felt sinfully good to be pressed against him once more, the nagging ache finally subsiding, giving her some peace amidst the passion. Eric's eyebrows lifted with surprise as she ground against him; Sookie was not wearing any form of underwear. "Minx," he sighed, ducking down to lavish kisses upon her neck. Sookie arched against him, and the vampire lost no chance, slicing the laces of the front of her dress with his fangs, nearly freeing her ample bosom. "I want to tear this off of you piece by piece," he growled, taking one breast into his mouth, circling her nipple with his tongue.
"You're hell on a girl's nice clothing." There was hardly any fire in the reprimand, Sookie in total bliss with his mouth upon her.
"Let me use my hands," he demanded, pleaded.
"No."
"My arms hurt."
"Liar."
"Let me take you upstairs."
"What for?"
"So I can make love to you on your large soft bed."
Sookie ground against him once more, her moisture sliding against his hardened length.
"No."
She hovered for a moment above him, before slowly impaling herself upon him, inch by inch. She hadn't forgotten his size, and yet somehow it still surprised her the way he could fill her so completely. Eric's head rocked back, paralyzed for a moment by the pure bliss of her hot tightness all around him.
"Stubborn to the end."
"Frustrated I'm not biting?"
"My affection for you is not bait on a hook, Sookie, if you would give me another chance, I would show you.."
"Isn't it though? Hasn't it always been?"
Eric winced visibly, his eyes narrowed, searching her for sincerity. "Do you really believe that?"
Sookie's small hand tangled in his hair, pulling his gaze back to hers. "This is how it is, Eric," she growled, lifting herself and sliding down once more, spine arching from the sensation. "You claim you saved my life, but the way I see it, you turned me into nothing better than a junkie. And I don't let drug dealers into my bedroom."
Eric's heart dropped at her harsh words.
Would she never forgive him?
The fact that he was nothing more than a booty call to her, while he still loved her so deeply, cut him to his core, and the vampire bared fangs in response. The familiar hot rush of rage filled him, the emotion he chose to hide behind when stony stoicism would not quite do.
"Fine," he snarled, reaching the end of his rope at last. "I try to be tender with you, but you reject me at every turn. You want to play rough?" Fast as lightning, the vampire flipped them upon the couch, twining her two hands in one of his own, holding them fast above her head. His other arm wrapped about her shoulders, holding her close as he drove into her without mercy, once, twice, three times, tearing a moan from the vampire slayer's mouth. Her strong thighs squeezed his hips, pulling him closer.
Through the fog of pleasure she vaguely remembered this was exactly what she feared. Eric breaking her rules, and she too weak to punish him for it. With the last slivers of her will, she drew a breath, forming the words, "I revoke-"
"Kick me out, I dare you," Eric snarled, kissing her roughly. "I will drag you with me and fuck you on your door mat. So what's your choice? Here on the couch, or splinters in that fine little ass of yours?"
Sookie hated it that a part of her loved this savage side of Eric. Despised the fact that the predator in him turned her on.
"You infuriating bastard."
"Pot and the kettle, lover."
He began once more, and no more words were spoken. Piece by piece, he did rip away her dress for spite, slaking the urge to destroy something beautiful in his pain and anger upon the fabric, instead of her. Were Sookie not more than human he would have damaged her, by the heated way he slammed into her depths, bumping against the entrance of her womb. She screamed as she reached orgasm below him, her nails digging into his back and her walls clenching around him pulling the vampire over the edge as well. He came hard, swearing in a language long dead.
Though Sookie could not understand his words, oddly her own thoughts ran along the same lines as he collapsed against her.
Damn you. I hate you. I love you.
The pair lay in a lifeless tangle for what seemed ages, until Sookie scooted out from beneath him, standing on wobbly legs. Eric watched her with hooded eyes, suddenly wary of her next action.
But the dhampir merely stretched her lithe toned body, eyes sweeping over him briefly before turning her back, walking towards the stairs.
"We'll see how long that lasts," she grumbled to herself, all too aware that Eric would hear.
Eric lay supine across the couch, the piece of furniture not nearly long enough to accommodate his full body. He listened to the sounds of Sookie taking a shower, a painful tightness in his chest, feeling used and rather similar to a chewed up piece of gum she'd just spat out upon the floor.
For once, he felt no desire to join her in the shower that night.
By the time she came back downstairs he was gone, only the scent of their coupling and a soreness between her legs evidence he'd ever been there.
Feeling rotten herself, Sookie curled up upon the couch, inhaling the heady masculine scent of him upon the cushions. She pulled one of Gran's tatty afghans about her shoulders.
Now, she let the darkness come for her, filling her like water rushing through a broken dam, and for the first time in a long time Sookie allowed herself to weep for the life and the vampire she'd lost.
A/N: Um…I'm baaaack. Hope it was worth the wait? Thank you everyone who's read and reviewed, you're the best!