Chapter 9

2004

SPOV

I woke with a start. My Gran was dying. She was screaming inside her head for help, someone was trying to kill her. I opened my shields and almost threw up from what I saw. Women, at least half a dozen; beaten, raped, and strangled. He was going to kill my Gran, and I was next.

I slammed down my shields, jumped out of bed, and ran for her room.

A figure, a man, was sitting on her chest and strangling her with some type of cord. Gran was fighting him furiously, clawing at his arms and kicking, but he was too strong. Driven by some kind of madness, he was whispering to her and crying. I didn't have time to make out his words because I grabbed the lamp on her nightstand and swung it with all my might across the back of his head. The lamp broke but it didn't seem to faze him. His head snapped around and tear filled, crazy eyes stared at me. I spared a glance at Gran, noted that she was still conscious, and took off running for the coat closet by the front door. Gran kept Daddy's old rifle there, I just hoped I could reach it in time.

I heard him yell, "Let go of me, you crazy bitch!" but I kept running. Gran was buying me precious time with her own life.

I heard a loud, sickening crack just as I yanked open the closet door. I tried not to think about what might have caused the sound and focused on grabbing the rifle and cocking it.

I turned just in time to see the new guy from the road crew, Rene, round the corner. And I fired. I didn't have the time, nor was I in the right state of mind, to aim so it was a good thing the shot hit him in the middle of his neck because there was only one shot left in the gun. Blood sprayed everywhere and he went down in a thump. I ran, leaping over his body, back to Gran's room.

I found her in a heap on the floor. Her beautiful white hair was now blood red from the injuries she sustained on her head. Her left eye was swollen shut, her nose was broken, and her neck had a noticeable ligature mark. I wanted to shoot him again.

Hands shaking, I reached down to see if she was still breathing. It was shallow, but it was there. I cried in relief and ran to the kitchen for the phone. My finger reached for the 9, but I remembered something Daddy told me in passing after I burned my hand on the grill at work. "One drop will fix you right up."

The nearest hospital was over an hour away. I shook my head, we didn't have that long. I dialed Daddy and Pam's house, but no one answered. I tried his cell phone; it went straight to voicemail. I flipped through Gran's little spiral notebook and found Pam's cell phone number. Crossing my fingers, I punched in the number and waited. It rang about a thousand times before I was prompted to leave a brief message. I was about to give up and drive Gran to the hospital when I remembered they might be at Fangtasia. Thankfully, Gran had written that number down as well.

"Fangtasia, the bar with a bite!" A woman answered.

"Is-" my voice was hoarse from screaming. I cleared my throat and tried again, "Is Corbett or Pam there? This is an emergency."

"Nope, Master Corbett and Mistress Pam aren't in yet. Try again in a few hours, have a good night!"

"W-wait! Is Eric there?" I asked hurriedly. Please say yes, please say yes.

At the mention of Him, the woman over the phone turned hostile. "Who's calling? Master Eric doesn't speak to just anyone."

"Tell him- tell him it's Corbett's daughter and it's a life or death situation, please!"

Suddenly, Barry White began crooning through the speaker about how he couldn't get enough of my love, babe. I was put on hold. For some reason, I found that absolutely hilarious and began laughing uncontrollably. Even in my current state of mind, or maybe it was precisely because I was such a big bag of nerves, I thought about how rude the woman was being. You always told the person to 'please hold' before you actually did it. God, was I shaking? I lifted my hand to my face. Either Louisiana was having an earthquake or I was shaking like a tickled Elmo.

"This is Eric."

And just like that, Louisiana stood still.

"Hi, I know you probably don't remember me, but you saved me about seventeen years ago from drowning in a river. A man, a serial killer, broke into my home tonight and he tried to-" I took a deep breath. "I think my Gran's dying and I was hoping you could find my dad. Or his maker, Pam." God, was I rambling? I looked at my hands but they were blurry. I rubbed my eyes. Oh, I was crying. At least I stopped shaking.

Silence.

"My dad's Corbett Stackhouse. Your grandchild." Was that the right terminology? "Or something," I added.

I heard a phone ringing on the other end of the line. He answered and said something too fast for me to discern. That didn't matter though, I was pretty sure it was spoken in another language.

"Where is the man now?"

It took me a second to realize he was speaking to me. "D-d-dead. I shot him in the neck."

Pause.

"They will be there shortly."

Click.

Too relieved to feel peeved at being hung up on, I placed the phone back in its cradle and rushed back to Gran. I sank down to my knees and cradled her head in my lap. Gently wiping the blood from her face, I began humming a song she used to sing to me when she'd put me down for my afternoon naps. I don't know how long I sat there, but the next thing I knew, Daddy was kneeling next to me and feeding Gran blood from his wrist. A pair of delicate arms wrapped around me and I turned to sob violently on Pam's shoulder. She ran her fingers through my hair in a trance-like state and belatedly, I realized she was crying too.

We sat there, the three of us, in our own thoughts and misery for what seemed like forever. I didn't know what was going on so I took my cues from the two of them and waited.

Pam broke the silence by saying, "Let me."

Daddy looked relieved and nodded.

She moved from around me and knelt by Gran's head. With a snick, her fangs descended and she bit into her own wrist. Quickly, she moved it to Gran's lips and I watched as her blood dripped into my grandmother's mouth.

We waited again until the blood began to work its way through her system. It was a long while before she took a noticeably large breath. Her eyes and nose were the first to show visible signs of improvement. The bones on her nose seemed to reform and realign itself, and the swelling on her eye went through several different stages and shades of bruising before it settled into her normal skin tone. Same went for the swelling on her cheek. Then the marks on her neck faded and the cut on her cheekbone healed. But she was still unconscious.

I looked at my dad and whispered, "Is she still human?"

It was Pam who answered, "It takes more than that to become a vampire."

I nodded. I didn't think Gran wanted to be one at her age.

Daddy moved to stand with Gran in his arms. Pam helped me up as well, and the two of us sat on the settee by the bed.

Daddy placed Gran carefully on her bed and disappeared into the bathroom. He reappeared with a wash cloth and began cleaning the blood out of her hair. It was a fool's errand. There was no way all that blood was coming out without a wash. Even then, her white locks might be tinted red for a long while. But I kept my mouth shut and watched. Daddy seemed to be doing it just to keep himself busy and I knew it was also reassurance that she was still here.

It was on Daddy's eighth trip to the bathroom sink when Gran stirred. We all gathered around her and waited. Her eyes opened slowly and she took in her surroundings.

She touched her neck and chuckled, "I didn't sprout an extra head, so why are y'all just staring at me?"

Daddy climbed onto the bed and drew her into a hug. "Never again, momma."

I slid in on the other side of Gran and hugged her side. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I could win a triathlon." She smiled.

I looked over at Pam who was standing self consciously by herself, and reached for her arm. I gave it a slight tug and she awkwardly joined us on the bed. The four of us were chatting- it was mostly Gran rehashing what happened, and the three of us mother henning her, when Pam suddenly stiffened. Without a word, she stood up and zipped out of the room.

Then, a door slammed shut. I looked at my dad; he was oblivious to everything other than the woman lying in bed.

I lowered my shields and searched for Pam's dark mind. She was by the woods outback but I felt another black hole, a much larger void, approaching from above with tremendous speed.

My heart beat a staccato rhythm as I slowly made my way to the kitchen. I watched through the windows as He landed just feet away from Pam.

I couldn't make out what they were saying but, to me, it seemed as if Pam was stalling. Her posture and body language screamed, "stay away", and I wondered why.

As if sensing me, he raised his eyes and looked directly at me. For reasons unbeknownst to me, my stupid hand lifted on its own accord and waved. He cocked an eyebrow and smirked, and I swear I heard Pam groan before her shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Sookie, invite him in, please." She said, right next to my ear.

I jumped. Even after two years, I was still unused to their super speed and stealth.

I walked over to the door where he was already waiting, and said, "Eric, won't you please come in."

He crossed the threshold, sniffed the air, and observed, "Aren't you sweet."

"Not especially," I replied.

He paused and studied me for a moment before laughing.

"Yo, you buggin? There's a dead dude in her hallway! Now is definitely not the time to be macking on the shorty, na mean?" Pam interrupted.

I felt properly chastised. My grandmother was in the other room, healing from a life threatening experience, and here I was, staring at back of the best looking pair of jeans in the history of asses- I meant jeans.

I was also confused as hell. Since when did Pam talk like that?

Eric froze midstep and turned his head to stare at his pint sized child. She wasn't exactly short, maybe three inches or so shorter than my five-seven, but He dwarfed everyone in comparison.

"What. did. I. say. about. BET?"

"That it's whack. I know you're just frontin', I caught you tapping your foot to some Snoop and Pharrell the other night."

He didn't deny it. Instead he arched a brow, and said, "As your maker, I com-"

Pam tackled him and slapped her hand over his mouth. "Don't you dare! I'm already forbidden from watching America's Next Top Model and The Simple Life, you are not taking away my Ursher and CiCi too!"

Eric swung her flat on her back on the floor and laughed. "That's because you were close to draining those vapid excuses for women."

"I threatened to drain them. After I lured them here and fucked them first, of course. There's a difference between threatening to and actually doing. Namely, intent." She completed that statement by crossing her arms underneath her head and very maturely, sticking out her tongue.

That's when I realized; Pam was a brat. And not just any ol' brat either. She was a brat of epic proportions, but only around her maker. They seemed more like siblings to me than father and daughter and whatever she and my dad were. This was an interesting side to her that I never would've guessed she was capable of having. I suddenly felt like I was allowed into a secret club of sorts. Was this her way of saying, "welcome to the family?"

Eric shook his head. "I do not envy the media shitstorm that descended upon Nevada and California Los Angeles after Tupac and Biggie's deaths. Sophie-Ann would stake you herself if you were to drain a rapper in her area."

And Eric was humoring her. Like a child. Or was he serious? With Pam, you never really knew what to expect and to be honest, draining someone because she didn't like their music seemed within her logical realm of possibilities.

"Now, tell me, why have you not yet disposed of the body?"

She stood up slowly and patted herself for nonexistent dust. Gran and I kept a very clean house, and I was a little offended by her gesture. "Because Sookie heard that he had done this before. Successfully, of course. There were at least six of them, all fang bangers. Raped, mutilated, strangled. Sometimes not in that order."

"And he told her this himself?" He asked Pam.

"She is right here, and no he didn't. I saw it all in his head."

Eric looked at me, really looked at me. "A seer?"

Pam looked panicked. Eric swung his head around at her. Was my disability supposed to be kept a secret? Well, someone should have warned me years ago because the whole town knew by the time I was sixteen and kneed my Gym teacher in the nuts.

"Seer as in 'Neo, you are the chosen one' or 'I see dead people'? Because I'll tell ya now, the second that fucker's ghost crawls under my blanket, I'm outta here."

"Telepath," Pam replied, completely ignoring me.

Instead of questioning my sanity or testing me, as was the norm, Eric surprised me by stating, "You are calling the human authorities."

"Yes," she answered, even though it wasn't a question. "The Stackhouse women want to get justice on behalf of the murdered women."

"How.. Noble," He might as well have had called us crazy by the way he said that word. "How do you propose to play this?"

Because Gran was completely healed and I was healthy as a horse, yet there was a supposed serial killer lying dead in our hallway with a bullet in his neck.

"Y'all could strangle me a bit with a cord and I'll say he attacked me."

Pam was considering it when Daddy appeared out of nowhere and said, "No."

"Glamour the sheriffs that show up into thinking I'm injured?"

"Have to glamour every dang person in this town. Second news spreads, there'll be a line of vultures wrapped around the house with casseroles for gossip." Daddy said.

"Bribe the local sheriff to corroborate the events of the attack." Eric suggested.

"No, can do. What Bud lacks in efficiency, he makes up for in honor." Daddy replied.

"Bribe the sheriff to corroborate the events of the attack, then have your mother and daughter relocate under the guise of safety."

"Momma'd never leave her ancestral home."

"Burn the whole fucking town down and kill every single one of these inbred morons."

That one was from Pam, obviously.

I ignored them all and walked towards the front of the house where Rene was still lying in a puddle of his own blood. I eyed his corpse warily as I squatted next to him. His upper body was covered in blood and his right hand was soaked from a last ditch effort of keeping the wound closed on his neck. My stomach lurched as I lifted his clammy left hand and yanked a chunk of my hair out with it.

Ouch! That hurt like a mother fucker!

"The fuck you doing?"

I looked up and saw all three vampires staring at me with varying levels of befuddlement and amusement.

"Evidence," I replied.

Pam cocked her head to the side and studied me. "You don't have sex, you don't do drugs, and the only alcohol you touch is rubbing. Then, all in one night, you kill a man, invite an unfamiliar vampire into your home, and tamper with federal evidence. Sookie Stackhouse, are you trying to impress me?"

"Federal?" I asked, confused. The logical part of me knew I should've been curled up in a ball somewhere after everything that had happened, but I was riding an adrenaline high and felt invincible. Either that, or I was more fucked up in the head than I thought.

"As per U.S. Code: Title 18, Sections 249 and 2340A - hate crimes and torture, which your delightful friend here committed a hundred times over, qualify as federal offenses. Throw in the fact that he's probably serial murdered his way across several states, and you'll more than likely be sharing those glorious breasts of yours with a bunk mate named Bertha in a federal prison."

I rolled my eyes. "Disregarding the fact that you check out my boobs, which is extremely tacky considering who your bedmate is, how the hell are we going to beat the FBI's forensic labs and agents? I thought we were just dealing with Andy Bellefleur and his inflated ego."

"Do the human authorities know of your ability?" Eric asked.

I nodded. "It's the worst kept secret in this town along with Jane Bodehouse's drinking problem and Arlene Fowler's desperation to trap another husband."

"Then how about a variation of the truth?"

And that's how Bud Dearborn and Andy Bellefleur came about to be in my living room at three in the morning. Mike Spencer, the parish coroner, had already come and gone with Rene's body.

Gran, showered and changed, was fast asleep in her bed. Daddy stayed behind to keep an eye on her and to make sure I'd have no problems with the officers. Pam stayed under the guise of nosiness but I had a feeling she cared more than she let on. And Eric stuck around most likely for the entertainment value.

"And you said you heard him confess to killing all those women?" Andy asked.

"Yes I did, Detective Bellefleur." I barely managed to suppress an eye roll at the honorific. I was sick and tired of his thoughts. He hated the fact that my disability was the reason they solved the case. Because solving a case entailed showing up after the fact and taking credit. As if that wasn't bad enough, he was also a skeptic and preferred to believe I was crazy rather than accept the fact that the world was vastly different from what he was raised to believe.

"Miss Stackhouse, we can't have your thing on official record." He said the word as if it was an STD or dirty tampon.

Daddy looked like he was close to ripping Andy's head off, while Pam appeared to be bored out of her mind. I was a mixture of the two but favored Andy losing his head more, and Eric just observed everything with an impassive expression.

I looked at Andy with wide eyed innocence and fear. I even managed some tears in my eyes and a lip tremble. "Then... what should I say happened?"

Bud looked at me pointedly and replied, "That you heard him confess to killing all those women."

Andy opened his mouth in protest, but Bud cut him off, "Eight women, sadistically murdered, would never receive the justice they deserve if Sookie here hadn't heard what she did and killed him in self defense."

Eric, silent throughout all of this, stood and inclined his head. "Thank you, sheriff, for demonstrating tolerance and objectivity in your judgement." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a business card. "Call me if you ever find yourself in the position to require vampire assistance." Then he walked over to the door and opened it.

Bud took the card and read it before saying, "Will do, sheriff. And, likewise."

After some formalities, Bud and Andy finally left.

I waited until their car was out of sight before squealing and giving Eric a great big hug.

"Thank you so much!"

"If I knew I'd receive a hug for ridding you of your unwanted house guests, I'd have done it sooner." He said with a leer.

Daddy growled, so I stepped back and grinned, "That too, but mostly for the brilliant idea of letting them deal with the problem."

Pam cleared her throat, "I deserve a hug too. I endured the imbecile's endless litany of questions when I could have been between the thighs of a beau-"

I hugged the breath out of her and said, "Too. Much. Information!" I had no idea what kind of sex life she and my dad had, and I preferred to keep it that way.

Daddy held his arms open, "Gimme some sugar," I went willingly. "Proud of you baby girl. Kept it together and gave 'em a dose of those crocodile tears. Taught you well, that brother of yours did."

I smiled, and it was bittersweet. "We need to find him."

With that turn in conversation, my mood plummeted and I suddenly felt very sick and very dirty. I ran to my bathroom, locked the door, and emptied my stomach of its contents. Someone knocked on the door, but I ignored it in favor of brushing my teeth. After my mouth was clean, I turned the water on to as hot as I could handle it and stepped inside, tank top and sleep shorts and all. I scrubbed every inch of my skin and scalp but I still felt dirty. The images I saw inside Rene's head were so sickening that I felt I'd never be clean again. But that wasn't my main concern. I felt no remorse for shooting him, and that worried me. Was I so damaged that killing a man in cold blood didn't even rank among the list of things I regretted? I didn't know how to feel about this revelation. I tried to rationalize it by telling myself that I rid the world of an evil, I killed a monster. And he was. But he was also flesh and blood, and life. And I was responsible for taking that away from a person; their life, their right to exist. I tried imagining it was someone else, and the thought made me ill. So it was just him, just his life that I was alright with ending. Was it because he was going to kill me? Partially. It was also because of what he had already done to the others, but mostly, it was because he tried to kill my Gran. And I couldn't tolerate losing someone else I loved.

I took my clothes off and rewashed my body. I had no qualms about killing when it came to protecting those I loved. Okay, I could live with that.

A/N: so.. They finally meet.. It was a lot less anticlimacticy when I envisioned it way back in chapter 1. in fact, it was porntastic. I just didn't take into account how papa bear Corbett would react or how big of a cockblocker Pam would be, or how an eager beaver Sookie wouldn't make sense in this story.

im sorry if I disappointed, but hang in there! These two will get their lemons eventually