A/N Thanks for sticking with me, I know it's been a while since I updated as I've been away, but I have a few chapters coming up over the next few days that will start to explain Eric's exile. Thanks for your reviews, do keep them coming. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 16

Marcus had been running through the woods for over two hours, but there was no trail to follow any more than there had been yesterday when he'd managed to track the strong scent of the human for about one hundred metres beyond the south side of the perimeter fence before it had disappeared abruptly in to thin air. It was as if Sookie Stackhouse had effervesced into nothing, and Marcus had flirted with the possibility that perhaps this was one of her gifts along with telepathy and an apparent immunity to vampire glamour: perhaps the famous bar maid had simply teleported back to Shreveport. Now, Marcus was simply running for the sake of it. The rhythmic pounding of his paws against the wet grass calmed his body and focused his mind. Debbie and Clay were almost certainly dead – there was no accounting otherwise for their failure to check in since the first, failed abduction of the woman. And Bill Compton must be responsible for their disappearance. This led to another almost unthinkable, but entirely logical conclusion: there was a spy amongst his pack. Someone had tipped off Compton, and in response the king had stationed some protection in the apartment beneath his former lover – a vampire guard, judging by the state of the place (that breed was hardly known for making their living spaces homely). Marcus could not begin to come to terms with the implications of any of this, and so he ran on, into the night.

Back in his office, the phone had been ringing off the hook for the last hour. The caller ID registered 'unknown' and since the weres, with the exception of the missing Debbie and Clay, were under strict orders never to take calls for Marcus in his absence the phone continued its plaintive trills until Liam, his nerves shot to bits with impatience and fear, pulled it violently from its cradle.

'Who is this?'

'This is Russell Edgington, sheriff of area two, and a very good evening to you also. May I ask to whom I am speaking?'

Liam was thrown right off guard. He had expected maybe Bill Compton, or even Northman; one of the two had to be responsible for Stackhouse's escape.

'This is...Liam Maddison. Marcus isn't here. What do you want, sir?'

'I need to discuss a very important matter with your pack leader, Liam. When do you expect his return?'

'Sir, I have no idea. In Marcus' absence, and... our deputy is also unavailable...so...I am authorised...'

'Oh, no no no no, I must speak with your master, Liam, not one of his doe-eyed little lap-dogs, no offence intended, so please locate your Alpha and inform him that I require his presence at my house before midnight. It concerns your recent – ahh – dispute with my king. What I have to say will be of interest to your pack, to say the least, and I am sure that I can count on you not to fuck this up, Liam?'

'Of course, sir. Count on it.' Liam slammed down the phone and glanced desperately at the weres grouped expectantly around Marcus's desk.

'That was Edgington. He knows something about us and Compton – I don't know what, exactly. Maybe he has the girl? I don't fucking know. But he wants us to meet him tonight. We have to find Marcus. Jesus, this is so way out of my fucking league.'

Dawn Legendre was the pack's best and fastest tracker and taking up Marcus' scent from the south side of the house, she set off at a ferocious pace, pausing every mile or so to howl out a signal to her leader. The trail ran on for miles into the woodland and Marcus had been gone for hours; the were was in despair at the prospect of ever catching him unless he turned and retraced his steps... he couldn't run forever, and perhaps he was already on his way back to New Orleans? Yes, there was hope. Marcus was the Alpha, but Dawn was a good thirty years his junior and had only just reached maturity in the spring; the stamina and strength of a wolf in her first year of shifting meant she could cover twice the ground of her pack leader, and she was female: the potent scent of a young were-bitch would hit Marcus before long, even across the miles he had gained on her. Sure enough, a good fifteen miles ahead on a track that was taking Marcus close to the state line, he stopped dead and put his nose to the air. It was faint, but the air was still and clear, and it was unmistakably the scent of one his pack – female, a hot and compelling, musky odour to the Alpha wolf. He let out a howl and Dawn responded immediately. Marcus turned tracks and raced back to follow the scent and sounds of his young female as she raced forward to meet him, panting and growling. There was no need for either to shift and speak, the communication from Dawn was clear enough: Marcus nodded his head in acknowledgement and the two set off back to New Orleans.

Russell Edgington was pacing his office impatiently, barking instructions to Talbot half in English and half in German. The captives were to be kept chained in silver. They were comatose and would be unlikely to awake without a good dose of human blood to heal them. And even if by some miracle they did awake, they would be in so much pain it was unlikely they'd pose any kind of a threat even if Russell had sat the three of them in front of him and placed wooden stakes in their hands directed squarely at his heart. Still, he was taking no chances, especially with regards to that extraordinary daughter of Eric Northman. Even under the influence of silver poisoning, Pam had still managed to smash her bottle of Tru Blood and make a valiant, if comically clumsy attempt to decapitate the sheriff of area two before slipping into unconsciousness. Russell could hardly restrain a smile; if only he could get that vampire to see sense and come on side! Talbot was assigned the further task of ringing every other sheriff in Louisiana whose loyalty could be relied upon at this crucial juncture. Before morning, Russell anticipated that he would have at his disposal at least three quarters of the vampires of the State, plus pretty much the entire were community if Marcus could be relied upon to pull rank. Compton was right in one respect at least: the Louisiana weres were an unusually united group, and pretty soon they would be profitably united behind himself, as heir apparent to the Louisiana throne.

There was a buzz as the gate security rang through the New Orleans pack. Edgington bided his time, making them wait in his rather cramped ante-room before inviting them in to his office. They were riled up to high heaven and, holy fuck, the stink. A few of them had recently shifted, he could tell; the smell was positively bestial and Russell managed simultaneously to be the very model of courtesy whilst also registering that he found their presence utterly disdainful. The pack accepted his offer to sit, except for Marcus who remained standing, legs apart, arms folded. Oh, look at the dog, thought Russell, posturing like a little would-be chieftain of all he fucking surveys. Still, one must award marks for effort, he surmised.

'Marcus, thank you for attending at such short notice this evening. Though I am sure you will hardly regret it when you hear what I have to say. Bill Compton visited me this evening seeking my help in negotiating peace between yourselves and the monarchy following a recent, erm, fracas in area five. You know the incident to which I am referring, yes?' Marcus nodded, very slowly, very warily. 'The king was concerned, highly anxious in fact, that the misdemeanour of his employee might escalate into a feud between yourselves and the monarchy and his majesty was quite adamant that this should not be permitted to happen, that he was prepared to offer very generous terms in order to ensure the cessation of any hostilities between himself and your formidable pack.'

Russell gestured around the room, smiling benevolently at the assembled weres. Marcus unfolded his arms and stepped forward.

'Sir, if you are attempting to intervene on Compton's behalf then please know that it is not necessary. We are not interested in negotiating peace with your king and, with respect sir, I do not understand why you would be interested in that either. We have already set in motion plans to hold Compton to account for the deaths of three, probably five, of our number. And it was my belief, Sheriff, that our plan would accord with your own long-term ambitions in respect of the Louisiana crown...'

'Quite so, Marcus. Quite so. And it is thus that I have in the most secure chamber of my premises, chained in silver, three vampires whose fate over the next forty eight hours will determine the destination of the crown and the future of your pack. Compton, the sheriff of area 5 and the daughter of Northman will be entirely at your disposal if you agree to my proposal.'

The pack collectively gasped. Marcus was torn between jubilation and the uneasy feeling that this was perhaps a trap, that he had misjudged Edgington's designs and that king was waiting close by to rip him and his wolves to pieces for agreeing to this treachery.

'Tell me more.'

'You must trust me, Marcus, and understand that I do not mean to incriminate you in anything beyond what you care to reveal to me here. You need not respond to what I am about to say, either to deny it or confirm it. If you say nothing and simply lead your pack out of here, I will assume nothing from that gesture that might be prejudicial to your interests. I will continue with my plans, but I will be sorry indeed to lose the inestimable benefit of your cooperation.' Marcus nodded. 'I understand that since the demise of my queen, Sophie-Anne, you have been dealing vampire blood under the direction of certain renegade members of the Authority who wish to distance this illicit trade from the vampire community. I know who these vampires are and I have sufficient connections to ensure that they will not implicate you in any future investigation of the supply of V in the state. My proposal is this. You gather as much of the drug as you have at your disposal. You take it to Compton's mansion once I have given you the all-clear and you will plant it there. I will notify the Authority of Compton's criminal activities. Leave the details to me, but it is vital that I am distanced from any violence against the king and his staff. The feud between yourselves and the king gives you the pretext for having Compton and his little entourage in your custody and I will inform the Authority that it was your invasion of the king's premises that revealed a consignment of vampire blood of which he had just taken custody. It would have been entirely natural for you, in obedience to vampire law, to have informed the sheriff of your area of the king's infraction. Your violence against the king would be vindicated by the rule of blood-vengeance that prevails in the dealings between our species. The Authority might demand some financial restitution, but your losses will justify your action against Compton in the overall scheme of things. And, believe me, you will be handsomely rewarded for your cooperation. There will be no repetition of the unfortunate events of the last war. I have the king under my roof and there is nobody to whom he can appeal for help. And even if he did, Marcus, I am sure that I could count on your contacts in the were community of this State to supplement my forces...?'

Marcus delivered a slow, sly smile as he contemplated the implications of Russell's invitation.

'Without prejudice to my pack, I suggest that it might be possible that Compton could be implicated in the dealing of V and that, if this proves to be the case, we would be only too happy to support you in whatever action you deem necessary, sir.'

'Oh, this is fabulous news! TALBOT! Quickly, prepare refreshments for our guests. And now, Marcus, one remaining matter does slightly continue to perplex me. Tell me what you know about the whereabouts of Sookie Stackhouse.'