Author's Note: Hello lovely readers! I am starting to come to the end of my previously written chapters, but I am still spending as much time as possible writing and getting inspiration. I have started looking for inspiration in the Sookie Stackhouse novels (I just finished book 2) and watching music videos (I have become obsessed with The Civil Wars and Mumford and Sons). I have two more chapters after this one completed right now, I'm going to try to finish Chapter 11 today. I will continue posting a chapter a day as long as I can. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own Gemma Leland and part of the plot associated with her. The rest of the characters and plot are owned by Alan Ball and the creators of True Blood as well as Charlaine Harris, the author of the The Southern Vampire Mysteries.

Chapter 8

I sprinted from the door straight out through the tree line and did not stop. Twigs scratched me from all sides as I flew through the trees, but I paid them no attention. My mind was spinning. When I looked at the dead werewolf on Sookie's floor, I had seen a flash of a memory from the past two weeks. The memory was hazy, not as clear as my new vampire vision, so I believed it was a memory from when I was still human. The now dead man had been holding me down while another man, who I could only see as a silhouette, stood over me. I could not remember where I was or if there were any other people around me. There was one thing I could remember, though, and that was that I was terrified.

I continued to tear through the woods like a bat out of hell, filled from head to toe with turmoil. Save for those few seconds of memory, the nearly two and a half weeks prior to awaking in the grave were still a mystery. Something happened that had taken away my memory. Maybe I had suffered a blow to the head. It must have happened while I was still human, though. Vampires heal quickly, so I found it hard to believe that my memory could have been wiped afterward.

The dead man's face had caused me to remember that little bit of memory. I began to focus even more on listening and looking for werewolves. If I could find the wolves, maybe they would cause me to remember more.

At that moment I heard light voices, quite a distance away from me if my hearing was as developed as I believed it was. I stopped in my tracks, listening for the direction the voices were coming from. When I pinpointed them, I took off as lightly as I could toward them. I was careful not to snap a single twig, rustle any leaves, as if my life depended on it. The scary part was if these were werewolves, it very well might.

Through the trees, I could see the glow of a small fire. Shadows stretched on the trees, indicating to me that there were two people sitting by the fire. I could not get a good look at them and I was too scared to get closer. I leaned up against an oak tree, hiding myself from sight. There was no breeze, so there was nothing to carry my scent to these possible werewolves. From what I knew of werewolves from Hollywood, which may all be completely untrue, they had great senses of smell and I did not want to risk anything cluing them in to my presence.

"I'm getting a little sick of chasing this fangbanger. I don't see how she is worth all this bullshit," a gruff voice said. I could tell they were talking about Sookie. My ears perked up.

"I seen her the other day," another said. "She's a hottie. I wouldn't mind showing her a good time before we take her to Jackson."

"Think with your head instead of your dick for once. Edgington said he wants her completely unharmed."

"She wouldn't be harmed," the second man said in a very suggestive voice before I heard a loud thump followed by a yelp of pain.

"We don't need to be doing anything more to upset Edgington. We already lost that vamper girl, if even one blonde hair is hurt on her pretty little head, we will be dead as roadkill."

My breath caught in my throat. They lost a vampire. Immediately, I had to think they were talking about me. How many vampires could these werewolves be chasing or even possibly holding hostage?

"How comes nobody can find that vamper, anyway?" the second man demanded. "She's just a baby, she couldna gotten far. Why isn't anybody looking fer her?"

"We can't risk any more problems. Those three rookies were already killed looking for her, we can't afford to lose any more guys. There aren't enough of us out here to risk it. 'Sides, the girl is prolly dead already, stumbled out in the sunlight or something. We can get us some more vampers, anyhow."

"It just seems strange that they was obviously killed by a vamper. Would that baby vamp really be able to do that? I think maybe she had help."

"Who would she call to get help? Coot clocked her real good right before that other blood-bag got her. I doubt she even 'membered her own name, let alone anyone else. She probably just got lucky."

"Where the hell is Johnson? He went to find that girl over an hour ago, he shoulda been back by now."

I didn't want to hear anymore. Slowly, I stepped back, taking care not to make any sound as I walked into the night. As soon as I knew I was safely out of earshot, I took off at full speed. If I still had a heartbeat, it would be hammering like a herd of wild horses.

I was scared to even think about the things I heard. It was obvious they knew who I was and where I came from. They also knew who my maker was, somehow. It should have been good news that they weren't looking for me, but the way they said "get" another vampire that made me sick. They made it sound like I was a piece of fruit they had dropped and they just needed to go out to the store and buy another one. No big deal. And who was this Edgington? Did he know something about why I was made? Desperately, I wanted some way to fill in the gaps in my memory. Evidently, a lot had happened in those two weeks I had forgotten. Maybe if I could remember, it would help me figure out what happened to get me here, which could maybe help me get home.

I did not even think as I began running toward Fangtasia. Something within me was telling me which way to go and in my traumatized state, I did not question these instincts. Eventually, the trees broke and I was running through Shreveport, finally stopping at the front door of Eric's club.

Walking through the door, I realized Eric was not there yet. The place was empty, though all the lights were on. Letting out a deep sigh, I took a seat at the empty bar. I dropped my head down on the bar, my brain running a mile a minute. With all the shit that had been going on, I hadn't had time to think about how thirsty I was. I felt weak, tired, and just plain done with it all. I needed blood bad.

My head snapped up, my eyes finding a fridge behind the bar. Jumping over the counter, I pulled the door open, revealing row after row of Tru Blood. I grabbed the first one I saw, unscrewed the cap, and dumped it into my mouth.

The taste was foul and I grimaced as the synthetic blood dripped down my throat. It was disappointing, kind of like a starving person biting into a hamburger only to realize it was tofu. And cold tofu, at that. I had not even bothered to microwave the bottle, but I felt so hungry that I did not want to wait. For a second I stared at the bottle, debating if I would continue drinking. Then the pain of hunger ripped through my insides again and I put the bottle to my lips.

"That stuff is foul," a drawling female voice said from behind me. I didn't have to turn around to know who it was. It was Pam. Rather than answer her, I took another gulp of Tru Blood, trying not to gag.

"What are you doing here all by yourself?" Pam asked, circling around so I had to look at her. I glared at her, still not dignifying her with a response. Pam had not shown me an ounce of respect since the second she saw me, so I thought I would return the favor.

"Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot," Pam said sweetly, grabbing the bottle out of my hand and putting the lid back on. "I can tell you're hungry and this stuff isn't going to cut it. Why don't you come have some real dinner."

Before I could stop her, Pam had her hand on my elbow and was leading me toward the back of the club. She opened a door, leading me downstairs to a dark, seedy basement. Basement seemed like the wrong word for it. Dungeon is more appropriate.

A nude woman stood on the other side of the room, her arms held above her head by thick chains that attached to the ceiling. She was thin with dark blonde hair and dark eyes. My gaze immediately fell on her neck where several different puncture wounds were visible. When I looked down, I realized she even had bite marks on her thighs, near her groin. She seemed like a prisoner, but I could tell by the slight smile on her face that she was definitely not there against her will. I would have been disgusted by the sight before me if I were not so hungry.

"Come on, Gemma," Pam whispered in my ear, putting her hand on the small of my back to lead me toward the young woman. "Get some real blood. It will make you feel so much better than that awful synthetic shit."

I began to inch toward the naked woman, my eyes locked on her pulsing jugular, the hunger gripping me harder than ever. When I was so close I was almost touching her, I froze, suddenly swinging around to glare at Pam. She stood only a few feet away, her face the picture of innocence. I was suddenly very suspicious.

"Why are you being so nice to me now?" I demanded. "It was only yesterday that you were talking about me like I was a piece of shit stuck to your shoe."

Pam's eyes became hard, showing her frustration with me. But very quickly, the expression was replaced with her look of innocence, though it was much weaker than before.

"I just feel like I have treated you wrong and would like to make it up to you. Go ahead, drink."

"No," I fired back, taking a step away from the human woman as if she was radioactive. "You better tell me what the hell is going on."

Pam tried to maintain her innocent intentions, though I could tell she was wavering. Finally, after a few moments of tense stand-off, she cracked. She rolled her eyes, heaved out a large sigh, and then looked back at me with the haughty, better-than-you look she always had when she looked at me.

"Look, sweetie, I'm under orders from Eric to keep you fed and get you some new clothes. He wants you to be presentable when we take you to Queen Sophie-Anne and he doesn't particularly want you dying while you're in his care. And trust me, sweetheart, you look starved. If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn't give you a diseased human," she said, gesturing vaguely to the chained-up woman. "I'd stake you. So I think that should be enough reassurance to get you to drink up. And please hurry. I have some other business to attend to."

Whatever her other business was, I did not care to know, but what she said did make sense. Eric had already explained that he could not dispose of me himself, which I assumed also applied to Pam. Poisoning seemed too complicated and time-consuming for Pam to consider, so I gave in to my desires. I sank my fangs into her neck and fed from the woman until I was full, which was more quickly than the previous day since I had already consumed about half a bottle of Tru Blood. Plus, I had the information Pam had provided me the day before. I was able to release the woman of my own volition this time by listening to her heartbeat. I did not need Pam to drag me off of her, which was good because it seemed to me that Pam wouldn't have bothered to put forth the effort.

After I had drunk my fill of blood, Pam grudgingly led me back upstairs to Eric's office. Inside, on top of his desk, there were several plastic bags with various clothes items, ranging from jeans and blouses to very sexy dresses. There was even a pile of shoe boxes, all of which were brand new. I was shocked by how much these clothes must have cost, but thankful none-the-less.

"Where did all this come from?"

"I had them acquired during the day," she said with a shrug. "Eric and I have several human contacts that do our dirty work while we sleep."

I chose not to ask any more questions, considering I may not like the answer to them. Instead, I picked out a cute pair of skinny jeans and a lacy blue blouse to change into. I asked Pam to leave the room, which she did gladly, and began to change my clothes. I slipped on the jeans, pulled off my shirt, and was in the process of slipping on the top when suddenly the door flew open.