I don't own any of these characters. I just like taking them out to play in my yard once in awhile.

Part 3

It didn't take long till we were pulling into the garage at the side of my house. Sookie had been quite willing to leave the club behind; well perhaps it was Pam and Arthur she was happier to leave behind. She seemed wary of them both. Pam, I could understand, she was an imposing woman, even thought she wasn't much bigger than Sookie, but Arthur was a slight man, 'course that made his fangs look a bit more menacing on his gaunt face. But really, besides them he looked as though a stiff breeze might blow him over, even if that wasn't the truth.

I shut off the engine and closed the garage door before opening my door, and then walking around to open Sookie's. I offered her my hand to help her up, not really thinking, but she took it. The warmth of her skin, pressed into my palm was a bit of a shock to me just then, because it brought the hint of some kind of familiarity with it, something not wholly unpleasant. I held it for a moment longer than was necessary even after she had stood, but she didn't pull away.

"Please come in." A formality, I know, but certainly a proper invitation, even though, as a human, she could walk anywhere she liked with or without an invitation. I pushed open the door from the garage into the house and turned on a hallway light so she could see where she was going.

My house was fairly modern, if you counted less than fifty years old modern. I did. It was perhaps not what you would expect for a thousand year old Vampire. I'm sure you are picturing some stone castle, or wooden hunting lodge, no, nothing like that. A split-level modified to my needs with an upper floor that served for entertaining, not that I threw parties or anything, but it had windows and curtains, and all the trappings of a human home, even a kitchen, which I never used, and then the useable space below that.

It was the lower two floors that gave it away as something unique. The first floor, just partially below ground had all the windows sealed with steel shutters, locked form the inside, and soldered into the frames. That level belonged to Pam, I ventured in periodically, at her invitation, she had converted it to a small sitting room, and a large bedroom, with two walk-in closets to hold her clothing and shoes. Even as a human Pam had possessed a love for all the fine things in life, and truly only the names of the designers had changed in the last two hundred years. It was a harmless, if expensive habit of hers. I hadn't ventured further than the sitting room in a very long time.

My rooms were entirely subterranean, not a spare beam of natural light to be had anywhere. As such I had a great many glass shaded lamps and sconces, not that I needed the light to move around with, but because they reminded me of my childhood, and the torches and their brackets along all the walls of my father's house. Out of necessity mine were mostly electric, but I did keep a proper hearth there; which was another reason for the older house, a proper wood-burning fireplace. The codes that had to be met to put one in a newer home weren't worth my time or money.

I led Sookie down the stairs to my left from the garage entrance, swinging shut, and locking a large oak door behind us. She trembled a little bit as I did so and as she looked downwards. I suppose it is a frightening sort of abyss to look into for the first time.

"It isn't a prison or a tomb, I promise Sookie." She plastered a weak little smile onto her face and took a few steps further down.

"You don't sleep in a coffin do you?" She seemed so hesitant to ask, I found it charming, as well as uncomfortable because it only proved how much had been stolen from her.

"I sleep in a bed, just the same as you?"

"You've seen my bed?"

Sadly, I didn't know if I had or hadn't.

"No." Seemed the only honest answer. "I just meant it as a figure of speech."

"Oh." Did she sound just a little disappointed at my answer? No, it was just my mind playing tricks.

I turned on more lights as we came to the bottom of the stairs. They illuminated my living space, large room, the centerpiece of which was the fireplace, and hearth of which I've already spoken. I'd had a huge solid oak mantle installed, from the same wood as the door up the stairs, and on it rested a few trophies; nothing macabre I assure you. A horn girded in bronze, a few pewter drinking steins, a short ax and a long sword, though the sword was mounted on the wall above the fire. In front of the hearth was a skin rug, bear, a mottled brown in color, and beyond that, two wing chairs in ox blood leather, a table between them for drinks, or books, whatever was holding my interest at the time.

Further away from that, a desk, with a computer and printer where I worked from home, and beside that a love seat in front of a flat screen television. I did still keep up with the news of the world and the occasional movie. The History channel was usually good for a laugh, if just to see what slant the producer de jour put on events I had already lived through. I also had a small bar and crystal glasses, hidden away in a wooden chest, not that I drank very much any longer, but the scent of the old bottles of port and scotch pleased me at time. The walls held the aforementioned sconces, and some weaving, art that had reminded me of the rugs of my father's halls, and the works from my mother's hands. They were the only personal touches there. It was enough. More personal things were in my bedroom; I expect I'll get to describe that layout at a later time.

Sookie looked around at everything very timidly, almost rooted to the spot at the foot of the stairs.

"I'll start a fire, come and sit please." Hesitantly she put one foot in front of the other and managed to cross the room, perching on the edge of a wing chair as I knelt at the hearth and piled the wood and kindling, striking a match to set it alight. After assuring myself with the first small pop that the wood had caught I settled myself back into the other chair and looked over at her.

"Would you like something to drink?"

She shook her head.

"Perhaps I should tell you a bit more about yourself?"

"Yes please."

"Your name is Sookie Stackhouse, I'm sorry I don't know exactly how old you are, early twenties I imagine. You live in a small town in Louisiana called Bon Temps; you've lived your whole life there. You work in a bar called Merlotte's as a waitress."

"Sam Merlotte?" She asked quietly.

"He's the owner, your boss, and a friend of yours. The few times I've met him he's seemed like a reasonable man."

"Do I have any family?"

"You have a brother, Jason. He seems to annoy you, or rather; some of his habits seem to annoy you. Apparently he has an eye for the ladies." I smirked, though she hadn't really vented to me about her brother, whenever his name came up it generally involved some kind of trouble he gotten himself into with another woman. She actually laughed a bit as I described him.

"My parents?"

"Have been gone for a long time, your Grandmother raised you. She passed about a year ago, give or take." I hadn't known Sookie quite so well at that point, and I have to admit that the actual date of her Grandmother's murder escaped me, if I had even known it at all. "You live in her house, it's a big house, two floors, very old and full of antiques and mismatched furniture."

"Is it tacky?"

I thought back to the last time I had been in the house, "no, it isn't, it's just like you. You've always seen the value in history and family. I think having all that stuff around gives you a great deal of comfort, I think you probably know every story behind every artifact." She nodded, a little sadly, and finally relaxed back into the chair.

"Or I did."

"You will again. Whatever the essence of the spell I know it can be broken."

"How do you know this?" That was the old Sookie, just a little challenge in her voice. It gave me hope.

"I've had occasion to deal with witches before, and their spells. One tried to curse me not so long ago."

"Why?"

"I would not cave to their demands."

"Who are you Eric?"

"My name is Eric Northman. I am the Vampire Sheriff of Area Five, and the owner of Fangtasia, amongst other properties."

"So you are important?" Her innocence was so charming. I could not help but smile.

"Some might think it."

"But you don't?"

"I have found that it is often easier to be thought of as less important, people tend to bother you less, and it is easier to get one's own work done."

She laughed again. It was wonderful to hear.

My phone rang before she could ask me another question; it was Mr. Cataliades and I took the call. Apparently Diantha and Gladiola were on their way and all three of them would be at the house in a few moments. I told Sookie they were coming, and asked if she wanted to hear what they had to say. The calmer look on her face began to melt at the news that others would be joining us, but I could see her screwing up her innate courage when she nodded in the affirmative.

And once again I beg for your kind and honest words since my counter is down. Reviews are Love.