Chapter Five

It turned out to be the strangest evening ever. My fairy Grandfather asked me to do these things, such as opening my mind to him (as he called it) and made me listen into his thoughts. Because we were in a restaurant out in public, I couldn't show him all that I could do, as far as raising light from my fingers goes. My fairy Grandfather said it would have frightened away whatever was left of the small group of customers eating out for the night. Luckily, Eric was there to confirm and back-up my progress. Apparently my fairy Grandfather wasn't all that pleased and felt I was lacking with my skills. He didn't exactly say it to my face- he probably assumed I was far too fragile to take it- but I did hear the disapproval in his thoughts and they way he shook his head at Eric in disappointment. Eventually, we ended up getting dinner, but I had already spoiled most of my appetite with my candy bananas so I didn't end up eating the salmon I was served. My fairy grandfather asked me about my life, and how I was coping with my gift at school, which was nice, I supposed. He sounded as if he truly cared about how I was feeling, when I confessed that it frustrated the life out of me because it made it far too difficult for me to concentrate. After dinner, he kissed me goodbye on the cheek again, said, "We will be in contact soon, dear heart," and told me to wait by the door so he could fit in a few conversations to Eric without my overhearing.

It makes me slightly worried as I watch the way he talks to Eric. By their stiff body language, I would say they were arguing. You didn't need to be the smartest bunch out of the litter to know that my fairy relative was not at all pleased with my vampire friend. I want to know what he said to Eric, but on the drive home Eric doesn't say anything to me at all on the subject. He just sits there behind the wheel of his car, driving us along in dead-silence. I know him well enough by now to tell that he is angry; His fangs are shining below his upper lip, which they tend to do when he is mad at something, and his eyes are hard slits as he looks out the windshield.

Just to break the awkward tension, I offer him one of my candy bananas, trying to be polite. Then I laugh to myself because I remember belatedly that he is dead, and he can't eat candy. Oh, well. It was worth the try. "So," I prompt.

"So?" He still won't look at me.

"What did he have to say on my progress? I don't think he was very pleased..."

His hands tighten over the steering wheel to the point where I start to worry he is going to end up snapping it in half. "Well, you thought right. He wasn't."

"Why not?" I ask, with worry. "I mean, you've taught me enough. Haven't you?"

"Apparently not enough. He believes you are underdeveloped for all the years I have mentored you. He believes I am being lazy with you. Too much play, and not enough hard work."

"That's bull," I explode angrily. "I know how to make light come out of my fingers. I know how to put up a mental shield." My mental shield only lasted for a certain amount of time, and depended on how many people were in the room. If it was an assembly of people, the harder it got to block them out. But I thought we had done pretty well. I thought Eric was a decent enough teacher. Niall was just being pushy. "What more can I possibly have to learn?"

He sighs. "You haven't learned teleportation just yet, and you haven't learned how to use your light efficiently to guard yourself from enemies." It's true; I can only use my light if I think about things hardly, and get myself into a huff. So far, I have only managed to push small objects away from me; Like a glass of water, and china plates. Gran wasn't very happy I had smashed her favourite china wear, but then they always say that practise makes perfect.

"Where are my enemies, though?" I ask, shaking my head. "Where are they? Because, so far, I haven't come across any. I haven't experienced any danger yet. Judging by the way my Grandpa is so adamant that I should learn how to protect myself, my life has been pretty dull and tame so far. I'm sure that if I came across an enemy anytime soon I'd get better at my skills; I just need to be thrown into the face of danger to really learn!"

Eric is a very fast driver, I learn, because along with my words, I feel the car increasing speed. I'm pretty sure he is going way past the normal speed limit; And I don't even need my license to know that. I guess vampire's are lead foots when they're frustrated.

"Slow down, dead man," I warn him, in a terribly shaky voice. My parent's died in a car. I don't exactly want to follow in their footsteps anytime soon. "You are a god-awful driver, Mr Northman."

"No, I'm not."

"Yeah, you are."

"I've had my license for over forty-years," he tells me smugly, "And not once in that timeframe have I ever gotten so much as one speeding ticket for driving over the limit."

I almost laugh out loud. "I guess them policemen aren't good at their jobs, then. I'm surprised you haven't gotten, like, heaps and heaps considering how old you are!" I turn to face him slightly in my seat, hating the way the seatbelt digs into me. "D'you know what I would do first thing if I was a policewoman?"

"What? Never quit running your mouth and indulging in lolly bananas every hour?"

"Nope." I snort. "I'd be constantly on the lookout after dark for an old man driving a red convertible and speeding. Then I'd take his licence from him and make him have to fly away places instead."

"I would glamour you and make you forget all about it," he says, under his breath.

"But you wouldn't be able to," I tease him in a prissy voice, "Because I would still be a fairy and I'd be immune to your powers. So, suck that!"

He takes in a deep breath. "Then I would resort to eating you."

"Eating me?" I feel my eyes widen in disgust. "What, so you'd kill a poor innocent policewoman just for doing her job? How awful of you!"

"I can be an extremely dangerous man."

Now I find that very hard to believe. "Sure, you're very dangerous whenever you're around me. You listen to my iPod on full-blast, and sometimes you read my romance novels, but secretly pretend you're not. That's very scary and dangerous of you." I laugh out loud.

"I don't read your romance novels, thank you," he mutters, far too defensively.

"Oh, you so do. I know you do, because whenever I go to read one myself I notice that you've crinkled down the corner of the page to keep your place until the next time you pop around!"

"Why do you read those sappy things anyhow?"

"I don't know." I think it over for a moment pensively. "I guess it's a nice distraction. I'm always looking forward to reading news things."

"They're a bit saucy for a girl your age, aren't they?" He realizes his mistake the instance he says it and clears his throat, adding, "Not that I read them, of course. I might have just read a chapter out of curiosity." He shrugs, seemingly trying too hard to be nonchalant. I have to stifle down a giggle. "And that chapter, I might as well admit, bored the fuck out of me. Who spends twenty-five minutes kissing someone? Those books aren't very realistic..."

"What, you wouldn't kiss someone before you made love to them?"

"I wouldn't. I like getting straight down to business." It feels weird to be having this conversation, like it is something that really shouldn't be discussed. But I'm sincerely curious. Sue me for it, if you will. "And by the way, I do not make love. I fuck."

"That's good to know," I mutter wryly, feeling my cheeks redden. Ick, gross. We pass an all-night gas station, and Eric makes a swift U-turn to get some gas. I keep my eyes up ahead as he fills up the car, looking out the windscreen. I watch him as he goes off to pay for the gas he has gotten for his car curiously. A car drives into the gas station near his convertible, and they are playing music real, real loud. I'm surprised it isn't damaging their hearing. I watch as a grungy-looking man climbs out of the car. His hair is long, black, and shoulder-length. He looks real scruffy. He walks over the side of his car and without warning, he runs to wrench open my door. Before I know it, his hand is clamping down on my wrist and yanking me out of the car to my feet.

"What the hell?" I shriek, feeling frightened. Because I'm so shaky, my adrenaline is pulsing, and I'm slightly angry, I hardly know what I'm doing, until it happens. I blast him in the chest and he flies back onto the ground with a loud thud. He starts crying and saying that his back hurts like hell. He calls me a few other names, that I won't repeat, because I take my upbringing as a good Christian seriously. All I will say, is that it disgusts me; the vile words that fall off his tongue at me, in all his rage. He makes a funny noise, and then the oddest thing happens. Before my very own eyes his clothes start ripping loudly into shreds, and his body vibrates. And then, no longer is he a dirty man, but a dastardly wolf.

I hear the bell to the gas station give out a little jingle, and Eric is standing there. It takes him less than half a second to realize what is going on, and he yells, very helpfully, "Sookie, run!"

I have no problem with doing that. Only my running sort of eggs the wolf on.

Oh, crap. This isn't good.