Chapter 11
New Orleans October 2011
The two vampires were chained in silver to the pipe running the length of the back wall of Marcus' basement. The male was barely conscious; deep lacerations marked his face and chest. The female was sitting straight, glaring ahead, her mouth a thin curl of contempt. She had spoken not one word since the pack leader and five of his strongest men had finally succeeded in tying her down, and uttered not one murmur of pain either. Marcus was seated on a chair slightly tilted against the wall opposite, smoking nonchalantly. A huge grey wolf sat next to him, licking its front paws.
'Wondered how long it'd take you to get here, Pamela. We've been working on him for hours. What took you so long, honey?'
Silence.
'Otherwise engaged, trying to stave off the inevitable, bravely standing by your noble king?'
Nothing.
'You know, I've always been curious as to what you fangers really feel when your makers suffer. Do you feel what they feel? When Cooter started to claw the skin slowly from Eric's chest, did you feel that, Pam? When we lashed his face with silver, what was that like for you?'
Pam's fangs ran out. She stayed mute.
'Oh look at you! You getting horny for me, Pam? Would you like a taste? Have you ever tasted were blood? Only I understand it is not very appealing to the vampire palate. I understand, in fact, that in relatively young vampires, such as yourself, it can cause convulsions and even death.'
Marcus walked slowly over to Pam, pulled a small blade from his pocket and made a knick in his wrist. He grasped her hair and pulled her head back savagely, holding his wrist over her mouth so that a couple of drops of blood slipped in before Pam managed to retract her fangs and close her lips. She coughed violently and her body spasmed for a second before slumping down.
'Oh, I guess there's some truth to that old wives' tale, then. That's very good to know. That could come in extremely useful.'
He bent down and ripped open Pam's shirt, beckoning to the wolf.
'There you go, Cooter. You must be getting bored. A new, blank canvass for you to work on.'
The dog padded over, growling softly, and stretched his claws out high. Pam sent a silent message to her maker, praying he had senses left to hear: We will not be defeated.
New Orleans October 2012
Eric fell to his knees just beyond the high metal fence separating him from Marcus' property. He could sense Sookie in there, but she didn't seem to be in any pain and although highly anxious, she was not afraid. He smiled.
'Stay strong, Sookie. I will be with you.'
The sun was just nudging over the horizon, searing his flesh and making him retch. He scrambled desperately at the dirt, digging just deep enough to allow himself to sink beneath the cool earth.
Sookie was pacing Marcus' basement, agitated but strangely calm given the circumstances. She tried the door again. Yes, of course it was still locked. Obviously it was still locked. She growled and kicked the wooden chair that was tilted against the wall; to her enormous surprise it flew high across the room, breaking one of its legs on landing. She giggled at her own strength. Vampire blood! Jesus, no, she'd better calm down. A commotion like that was not conducive to maintaining her safety, assuming her safety was in any way assured at the present moment. She breathed deeply, counted to ten, and resumed pacing.
She realised she could hear voices from the room above, and quite distinctly. The vampire blood again? Strange, she'd taken Bill's a few times but it had never heightened her strength or her senses to this degree. She stopped still and listened carefully.
'I'm not disputing your judgement, Marcus, but we have to at least plan for the possibility that Compton doesn't surrender the vampire. What the hell do we do with the girl?'
'You know there's only one option there, Liam. We can't just let her go skipping back to Shreveport. Our position would be five times weaker than it is already, with three weres dead at the hands of that fucker and Clay and Debbie AWOL. Yeah – "oh look, Mr King, we can kidnap your telepath pet, but it's OK, because if you don't play ball you can have her back again good as new". '
'Marcus, and again I mean no disrespect, but I'm not sure if most of the pack really knew that this was on the cards.'
'Then they will learn not to be so Goddamn stupid. Anyhow, Liam, it will not come to that. Pam is a thorn in Compton's side. She's loyal to Northman, she hates her king, and why Compton didn't kill her when he had the chance will remain a fucking mystery to me for so long as I draw breath. We will have Pam.'
'And then what, boss? Seriously, no, don't look at me like that – what exactly do we do when we have her? Stake her? Or silver her to within an inch of her undead life, sit back and wait for Northman to break down the fucking door?'
'Yep, you got it. If and when her maker returns, we'll have the both of them. Northman will hardly be strong after six months in exile. He's ostracised from every vampire community, he's been deprived of everything that made him what he was. If we stay sharp, stay focused, we will take him, even without the benefit of Cooter's... special skills. And then, remember what I said about the need to be strong in relation to our sheriff? He's planning a move; like I said, war will come. What if we were to offer him Eric Northman? Northman might well jump at the opportunity to join forces against Compton, especially given that every Louisiana sheriff except that moron Franklin Mott is still loyal to Northman, and therefore would be loyal to Edgington in any attempted coup. It won't be like last time – Edgington won't be reliant on a motley crew of mercenary vamps to fight his battle. He'll have an army of sheriffs, the vampires who owe them allegiance, and all of this will be headed by the oldest vampire in the southern United States. We will hand Edgington his winning card, Liam. And then – welcome to the new world order!'
'Yeah, well...sounds fucking brilliant, if it works, Marcus. Just thinking, though, maybe you could have made all this a little bit clearer to the rest of us?'
Sookie sank to the floor. Her life, then, depended upon Bill's willingness to sacrifice one of his most able vampires for her sake, for the sake of a woman he'd been prepared to enslave to the Queen of Louisiana. A woman he'd seduced purely for that purpose. Maybe he'd loved her? He'd protested as much, begged her not to leave, been seemingly beside himself with grief at their parting and then, following her capture by Sophie-Anne, he'd risked his life to save her with no expectation of anything in return. Oh yeah, and Tara had told her that according to Franklin Mott he'd then gone back and chopped off Sophie-Anne's head. If this was true... well, Sookie had no option but to believe it might be true or she would die of pure despair in this rancid basement before the weres even got a look in. She curled up into a foetal position and drifted to sleep. She'd believe it. Bill loved her. She'd be free.
She jerked awake, confused for a moment, then afraid, then suddenly deadly calm. No, she would not die here, nor would she wait like a passive dumb female to be a rescued by a perfidious vampire. She jumped up and resumed pacing. She would get out. Or else she would die trying. She was not going to be a timid, human pawn in this brutal, vengeful drama. She went to the door and pulled it again. Yes, obviously it was still locked. She snarled in frustration and yanked again with all her strength and... the door wrenched open. She stood stupefied, gazing at her hand, at the door, and then at the astonished were staring at her in the corridor. Without pausing for thought, Sookie grabbed the guard by the neck and smashed his head against the wall – once, twice, three times. He crumpled to the floor and she kicked him through the door of the cell. She had to plan her next move carefully. At the end of the corridor was a heavy metal door, certainly her best bet. She could smell the fresh air beyond that door and she thanked the dear Lord for Eric's blood. Pulling its heavy bolt slowly back, she edged it open, cringing at its reluctant whines and creaks. She found herself in a basement yard, a flight of steps leading up to the lawn. Thankfully, no lights were on in any of the rooms at this side of the house so she went unseen as she softly climbed the steps and scanned the grounds. Again, she muttered a silent prayer of thanks for that vampire's sweet blood since her eyes, keen even without this uncanny enhancement, could pick out every detail of the terrain even in the dying light of day. There was nobody in the vicinity, but she had to remember the weres' ability to sniff her out and their instinct for the hunt. The next minute or so would almost certainly determine whether Sookie Stackhouse lived or died. She ran like hell. The perimeter fence was pretty high but she scaled it with relative ease, stumbling only slightly as she hit the ground. She paused for breath before continuing at a slower pace; she was unsure of the terrain and needed to get some sense of her bearings.
Eric stirred in the ground. His mouth was full of dirt and his body hummed with a sense of Sookie, much closer now. She was no longer in the house. Where were they taking her? He clawed his way out of the soil, and then he saw her. She was jogging away from the fence, looking around her as if to plot out the best course through the trees. He resisted the temptation to cry out her name, but neither could he simply approach her from behind, unannounced. It would shock her half to death, no doubt. Instead, he flashed forward in a long arc so that he arrived about twenty metres in front of her and when he stopped, he held out a hand, the other pressed to his lips to indicate she must not cry out. Sookie stopped dead. Her face registered fear, then confusion, then sheer, joyous relief. She ran to him and threw her arms around him, gasping, almost sobbing.
'Sookie, I simply ... you fucking marvellous girl.' He kissed her hair and hugged her tight. 'Listen, we have to move to fast and I need you to trust me. Climb on to my back.' He knelt down and put his arms behind her knees. 'Yes, you heard me! Hold on, close your eyes. Trust me, Sookie.'
With Sookie clinging to his neck, Eric took three long strides forward and the two of them took flight.