A/N: Hey everyone! I'm back … so, we're taking a bit of a turn more toward True Blood here, but who cares? Hope you enjoy and thank you!
Chapter 9: Ashes to Ashes
There was one nice thing about hunting werewolves, mused Sookie through a blast of silver-plated uzi fire. They didn't beg for mercy.
They fought to the death with a grim determination.
Or perhaps, simply, their master would accept nothing less of them.
Russell Eddington, king of Mississippi, was a vampire who favored servants of the furry-during-the-full-moon variety, and kept them fueled and loyal with a steady supply of his blood.
It made them a bit harder to kill, but not quite enough.
She'd been picking off the pack for the past three days and nights, and now finally their alpha lay at her feet, exhausted and bleeding.
"I'll make you a deal," said Sookie, voice distant and hard as a mountain. "Take me to Russell, and I'll let your family live."
Cold and calculating, perhaps, but she'd secured the wife and daughter the night before with every intention of using them for her own ends.
Perhaps she'd learned a few things from the vampires she hunted.
Once, Sookie made the acquaintance of the 3000 year old Mr. Eddington at a political function in New Orleans. Some white tie event thrown by the Governor, pandering for campaign funds under the guise of human/vampire cooperation. She'd found it bullshit then, and distinctly remembered the chill run down her spine at shaking Eddington's hand, his crooked knowing smile, and her sudden hope she never ever would find herself going head to head with this monster. There was a cruelty in his eyes that no one else quite seemed to catch, and an arrogance she felt certain would someday make trouble. Lo and behold, she was right.
After the untimely death of his lover, Eddington ripped a news anchor's spine out on national television, spitting curses upon humans and throwing down his gauntlet before the world. Out for blood, and already the bodies of innocents were piling high.
Bent on global domination.
Completely bat shit, and Sookie was the last line of defense the Federal government could throw at Russell, short of a nuclear warhead.
Perhaps she could succeed in killing him, but she still felt certain she would not be walking away from it alive. Regret weighed heavily upon her heart, a thought of Eric, his handsome face, a blinding smile, the shape of his laughter in the dark. Though she kept her side tamped down tight, terrified he would come looking for her, she could feel him through the bond they'd established, a steady strength that throbbed within her as sure as her own heartbeat.
Alcide had been the one to set it all off, taking out Talbert, Russell's lover, for a warrant issued on the charge of kidnapping, raping, and killing teenage boys in the Jackson area.
Alcide came back from Jackson in a bag.
So had Quinn.
Reluctantly, the were before Sookie agreed to her terms, though by the violence glinting in his eyes, she knew he would betray her at first opportunity.
She didn't intend to give him the chance.
Since the television incident, Russell had abandoned his capital mansion, going into hiding somewhere nearby.
At long last, Sookie would find out exactly where, and the nightmare could really begin.
OIOIOIO
"This is horseshit!" raged Nan Flannigan, throwing down a slew of photographs of Russell upon the long boardroom table. As though every vampire in the room didn't already know exactly what the three thousand year old vampire looked like, after his face had been broadcast all over the world twisted with maniacal glee, a news anchor's spine gripped in his hand. "Where the fuck could he be?"
Eric Northman sat quietly, slouched in his seat with arms crossed, as the other vampires babbled to the AVL's spokeswoman, trying to cover their asses with useless suggestions.
In truth, he only paid half a mind to the situation at hand, the emergency meeting called by the Authority that he'd been dragged into attending at his queen's behest. Most of his thoughts ran to Sookie, the pain in her eyes as they'd said farewell for the night not so long ago, and the very bad feeling he had about all this.
"Of all times, we're a hair's breadth away from ratification of the vampire rights amendment!" Nan went on. And on. And on. Until finally Eric could take it no longer, his heart in his throat, even if his eyes were chilled as ice, his voice deep and sure.
"I'll take care of it," he promised quietly, standing from his seat.
The room fell to silence, all glowing eyes upon his towering form. He held the attention of the room with the bearing of a king, and Nan bristled for a moment at the loss of the floor before turning snake-like eyes upon the Viking at the other end of the table.
"You're a third his age, Eric Northman, what makes you so sure you can bring him in?"
"No one else seems to be volunteering," he countered with a sneer, gazing upon the cowards surrounding the table.
A poisonous smile crossed Nan's lips. "Very well. Dead or alive, Northman, bring him in. The Authority would be quite grateful to you for such a service."
Clearly, she thought he wouldn't survive the encounter.
Fuck the authority, thought Eric, nodding before turning on his heel, exiting the room full of bureaucrats and paper pushers. How could vampires be reduced to such petty insignificance? Not even the dark gift could cure their pathetic penchant for politics.
Eric cared not for any reward the Authority could dream up, for he suddenly felt certain he knew where Sookie had been sent to do battle. Though she'd been on leave, this was a disaster. She wouldn't stay away from such a thing, safe on the sidelines. How could he have overlooked it?
And suddenly, with a pang so deep in his chest as to steal his undead breath for a moment, he understood the haunted look in Sookie's eyes. That she'd kissed him not farewell, a few nights ago, but goodbye, knowing the foe she prepared to face.
In the name of duty and saving human lives, she would sacrifice everything. And though she had her faults, at heart, Sookie quite possibly was the bravest human he'd ever known.
His wonder mixed with anger, that she would go to her death in such a way. She could have asked for his help, at the least.
He knew, however, that she hadn't because she feared Russell would put an end to him too.
Eric had met Russell Eddington before, tasted his power, and knew Sookie for all her strength, still wouldn't stand a chance alone.
Taking to the air, cold fear raging through his veins, Eric followed the thin thread of their bond and hoped to Odin he would make it to her in time.
OIOIOIOIO
Sookie couldn't help but laugh at the sight before her, as she and her werewolf hostage approached Russell's alternate hideout in his truck. It was a considerable downsize from the capital he'd inhabited before, but still, a storybook mansion any southern girl had once dreamed of inhabiting with Rhett Butler in her youth.
In other words, the egotistical and ancient vampire had been hiding right under their noses, albeit a little outside of town, down a lane lined with centuries old liveoaks.
Dressed in tight jeans and far too much makeup, she fit the part of a werewolf's harlot quite well - the guard barely blinked at the sight of her, waving them through the gate.
Sookie's dhampir senses screamed out, the closer they approached. Vampires awaited ahead. Old ones, dangerous ones. She toed her duffel bag full of dangerous goodies at her feet as a security blanket, the gun trained upon her driver hidden beneath a sweat shirt never wavering from its position.
She left him tied up in the field, a good ways from the house. Alive, true to her word.
Shouldering her bag, the load of guns, knives, and ammunition not half as heavy as her heart, she traipsed towards the plantation house with the intention of decimating all that resided within.
OIOIOIO
"Didn't your maker tell you not to go 'round kissing Dhampirs in public?" questioned Russell with a smug smile, enjoying the situation far too much. The tidbit of the sheriff's indiscretion had reached Russell's ears some time ago, and finally he felt pleased to have the opportunity to use it. "This was almost too easy, Eric Norhtman. But who could have guessed the great Sookie Stackhouse would value you as her nearest and dearest?"
With a hiss Eric shifted against his bonds, fantasizing wrapping his long fingers around Russell's throat, tearing at the flesh, ending all this with a snap of spinal cord, just as this psychopath had done on live tv.
Clearly, Russell enjoyed the theatre in putting on a Southern American English accent, as he enjoyed the challenge of adopting the culture of the inhabitants wherever he happened to be on the globe. It was all just a game to him, a big three-thousand year and counting joke. For where the humans and wolves around him would perish, turn to dust, he would remain as a rock of the ages, impervious to the weathering forces of time.
He'd remained a spectator for so long.
But in the death of his lover, Russell found their arrogance to have reached its crescendo; now came time to pay the band, and the bill demanded pounds of flesh and blood.
At long last, he decided it was high time to intervene. Humans had been allowed to go on with their ridiculous little lives long enough. The planet was at a putrid and critical stage - there were enough nuclear bombs in existence to destroy Earth twenty times over - war and epidemic raged on. After all this time, they'd learned nothing, done nothing in their greed to truly improve themselves.
Soon, they would learn. They would crawl, and they would bow.
Most importantly, they would bleed.
Eric had been waylaid by a troop of older vampires and werewolves alike; ever since Russell heard the infamous Sookie Stackhouse would be coming next, he'd put out an order to have the Viking brought to him.
Her attack would be laughable at best, if she was anything like the others.
Why not have a little fun in the meantime?
It had been centuries since he'd tasted dhampir, and remembered the taste to be sweet as candy to his vampire senses. He paid Eric a sidelong look, clearly amused, his head cocked to the side as he listened to something on the outskirts of his compound. A spatter of gunfire, something akin to that little machine invented by the warring Hebrews.
Eric struggled more against his chains, but could not budge them, the silver burning into his flesh. He knew the sound to be Sookie's Uzi, a weapon she favored in situations such as this.
"Let the games begin," sang out Russell, picking up a stake, and taking a patient seat not far from Eric.
OIOIOIO
Spattered in blood, Sookie fought with all her might and skill, making her way through the maze of the mansion's marble-floored hallways. She'd cleaned out the pack guarding the house with the Uzi, and now out of ammo for that particular weapon, she'd moved on to her favorite Glock 9mm.
All who attacked her fell to her brutal hand, vampire and were alike, but she could feel herself tiring. And she still had to face Russell, something of which she would have liked to do with a full reserve of strength, and a tank.
An alarming pain just over her heart caused her to pause as a vampire fell to her feet - for a moment she thought she'd been injured, until she realized it was a pang from the bond. She'd kept it tamped down so tight, terrified Eric would follow her, but something slipped through.
Fear. Regret. Longing.
With a shudder that threatened to turn into a sob, Sookie pushed through the sensation, hoping Eric was safe at home in Shreveport, far away from the madness in Jackson.
She hoped he would think of her, now and then, maybe lay a flower on her headstone. If there was anything left of her body to bury.
A great weight fell upon her mind, causing her vampire radar to positively jump off the charts, and Sookie suddenly knew Russell Eddington must be near. Very near. But so were another handful of vampires, she could tell, just through a pair of tall double doors. The entrance to a ballroom, perhaps, maybe a library.
Inserting a fresh clip into her Glock, she exhaled, going to a still place inside where white-noise reigned. In this place, she could bring herself to do almost anything to survive. She paused for a moment, her hand on the door, eyes closed with the thought of offering a silent plea to whatever deity may have been interested. But she could not bring herself to think of God or something like it in a time like this. All she could see were a pair of artic-blue eyes, a blinding smile filled with love all for her, and with hot tears in her eyes she whispered his name as a prayer before bursting through the doors.
OIOIOIO
She swept through the room with all the force of a hurricane, gun blazing, eyes wild with the fury of the fight. It was a sight beautiful and terrible to behold, and neither Russell nor Eric could tear their eyes from her as she skillfully slaughtered all who came within arm's reach of her.
When the bullets ran out, she pulled the sword from its sheath upon her back, its blade singing out a joyfully clear note in its freedom, painting the floors and walls red with blood.
Russell let her have whatever vampire and were would be so weak to fall to her. True, she was a warrior, but he held no interest in providing shelter for weaklings. There was work to be done, and with glee he allowed Ms. Stackhouse to clear his flock of the weak and stupid.
Until the room became almost empty of life or undeath, the heavy metallic scent of blood clinging heavy in the air. She'd killed them all, Russell marveled, and before she could finish the last, a 500 year old Russian vampire named Vladimir who Russell had thought one of his best assets, he called out, "I wouldn't do that, Ms. Stackhouse."
His voice echoed throughout the ballroom, and her sword raised high for the killing blow, Sookie finally looked in Russell's direction. Her heart dropped to her feet for the sight before her.
Russell stood with a sturdy and sharp ash stake in his hand, pointed for a heart that had become most dear to her in recent months.
"No," she whispered, but to vampire hearing it rang loud and clear as a bell.
"Drop the sword, my dear, or else your lover becomes dust."
Sookie looked to Eric, the pain written upon his face, and not for the silver that burned his skin in such an excruciating way. He feared for her at that moment in ways he'd never known. She'd fought so valiantly, with all the skill and brilliance of a Valkyrie - he hoped Russell, an ancient, could at least respect that, and make her death a quick one.
With hardly a second of hesitation, the sword clanged to the ground, rendered useless, docile, without its owner's deadly guiding hand.
Vladmir rose from his knees with the intention of harming Sookie, but Russell quickly pulled the Russian's leash, not about to let the fun end so quickly. "Vladimir - get the fuck out. You disappoint me."
Vlad knew better than to argue. The ballroom door slammed closed, and the trio were left nearly alone, up to their ankles in corpses. Three more vampires remained close to Russell, his personal honor guard, and all looked uncharacteristically uneasy to be in the same room as Sookie Stackhouse.
"Well, well. Look at the mess you made," said Russell, gesturing to the bloody bodies upon the floor.
"Let him go," she called, disinterested in his insane banter. "I'm the one you want."
"Yes you are indeed," answered the King with a chuckle. "But I have to ask you, Ms. Stackhouse, what are you willing to trade? Because I find humans these days to be a pathetic and unprincipled lot. No one remembers what it means to bleed for that which is yours. Y'all are born with an innate sense of entitlement to Tvs, big houses, SUVs and the gas to put in 'em - So tell me. What would you sacrifice to see this big hunk of Viking safe?"
Without a moment's hesitation, Sookie raised her chin high, something hard and certain glinting in her eyes. "My life for his. Is that sufficient?"
She knew Russell would accept nothing less than everything.
"No, Sookie!" called Eric in a panic. "Don't-"
Russell silenced Eric with a hand upon his mouth, and did not even flinch as fangs shredded at the palm of his hand, an expression of pleased surprise twisting his features.
"My my. Just when I thought I could no longer be surprised."
He made a brusque gesture, and his honor guards stepped forward to unchain Eric, so that only his hands remained bound by silver. "Take him back to Shreveport 'fore you set him free," ordered Russell casually. "Miss Stackhouse and I need some alone time."
Eric struggled against his captors, but their combined strength outweighed his. "Spare her," Eric growled in passing the King, "And I will give you anything. You can have my life, or my loyal service, for anything you wish."
But Russell shook his head, waving the baby millennium vampire on. "We both know you would betray me at the first opportunity, Northman - and it's not your blood I want tonight."
The lovers eyes locked in passing, red-rimmed as they were, and Sookie and Eric both almost fell to their knees as she flung to bond wide open with the greatest abandon she'd ever known. She sent Eric the truth of her love for him, a deep and fierce creature she kept within her, and blood tears trailed down his cheeks as wave after wave of warmth accosted him, wrapped him up and attempted to soothe.
But there could be no relief, and she felt the depth of his sorrow as surely as his love. Not for me, rang out in her mind, startling her as his voice filled her, the marrow of her bones. Please don't do this for me.
Who else, but you? she finally answered, watching as the guards dragged him towards the doors, but he refused to look away. I wish you the best, Eric Northman. Think of me once in a while.
The doors slammed shut with an ominous boom, and Sookie found herself left all alone with a 3000 year old psychopath.
"What a grand gesture," mused Russell, stepping down. "A love of epic proportion. How rare and sweet it is."
In the blink of an eye, he gripped her hair roughly, turning her head to expose the smooth line of her neck.
"Talbert and I shared a love as such," he confided, and for the first time the sing-song playfulness subsided in his tone, giving way to the darkness of anguish. "I would have made the same sacrifice for him, but I wasn't given the choice. I'm almost sorry you've been dragged into all this, after such a rare display." He leaned down to sniff at her pounding jugular, closing his eyes for the bouquet that wafted towards him. "Mmm, but its been a long time since I've tasted dhampir. So maybe I'm not sorry after all."
As his fangs sank past the fragile skin of her neck, Sookie flinched. For every step the guards took, she could feel them dragging her heart farther and farther away from her, and she hoped they would really let him live.