Hey guys,
Hoping you enjoy this one and that it isn't bad.
Chapter 10
"Don't call me Spotty," I growl in warning.
"Or else what?" he mocks. "What are you going to do about it, Spotty?"
"Shut up, Eric! It's not funny!"
"Well, it isn't mean to be funny, is it? It's meant to get you angry."
"Oh, I'm angry, all right," I huff out indignantly. And then, losing sense, I charge for him, inching up on my tiptoes for maximum effect.
It doesn't catch him off-balance, which I was really hoping for. No, instead, he sees it coming, much to my bad luck. He catches me, his hands clamping around my waist. And then, he lifts me high up in the air over his head, and I squeal, wiggling my feet around. My head is that close from hitting my bedroom ceiling, only he doesn't let it, thank goodness. I can hear him laughing breathlessly from where I am high up in the air.
"Dirty Dancing Swan lift," he mutters underneath his breath from below me, "Because nobody puts Spotty in the corner." I lose all my fury and crack up laughing myself. I laugh so hard, my entire body trembles.
"God, I can't believe you've watched Dirty Dancing! How scary of you, Mister Old Vampire!"
Grandpa Niall adds in a commentary of his own.
"Come on, you two," he says, in a scolding tone. "You call this fighting? I call it frolicking!"
"All right, all right," Eric mutters quietly, and then he lowers me back to the ground carefully. "No more playing. Let's get serious."
My laughter immediately dies in my throat, as I see Eric's face change from playful to seriously determined in a heartbeat. And then without warning, his hand goes up to grab me by the throat, he applies just enough pressure with his fingers for it to hurt, and I'm winded. Catching me off-guard again, he uses his free arm to snake it around my back, pulling me forward until we are touching. I swallow loudly, as he slips his fingers across my chin, pulling my head up roughly until I'm staring him down square in the eyes.
"Come on, Sookie," he provokes me, waiting for me to attempt to fight him off. "I've got you by the throat. Now what are you going to do about that?"
He growls at me through his fangs for added effect.
"Come on, Spotty!"
Something in my snaps at this moment. His mean name for me falls over me like a bucket of cold water and before he can react, I'm using the palms of my hands to push into the center of his chest, and he staggers back. Unfortunately, his hand is still wrapped around my throat, so as he trips and falls to the carpet, he very decisively takes me along with him. He makes a gasp and using his distraction to my advantage, I grab his hand by wrapping my fingers over his thumb, fling it down from my throat to his side, and then pushing upwards I use my knees to hold his arms down as I straddle him. He is so caught off-guard by that all he can do is simply stare up at me.
"What's wrong?" I tease. "Caught off-guard by the big bad fairy girl and can't get up again?"
He growls at me for assuming him weak and he tries to buck me off. Unfortunately for him though, I know how to be like a monkey and know when I need to cling. Bringing up my hands, I clutch onto his shoulder blades for dear life, while adjusting swiftly so that my knees are holding his wrists pinned to the ground. Naturally, being the big strong vampire he is, Eric notices my mistake and chuckles. He bucks his hips again, and I just tighten my hold on his shoulder blades, digging my nails in through his sweater. After one more unsuccessful buck, he rests his head back against the floor. He's breathing loudly, but then again, so am I. I grin happily to myself. Success has never been so awesome as it is in this moment of time.
Reaching forward, I grab his hair and pull hard, forcing his head up and his eyes to rest on my face again. He makes a guttural noise at me, crinkling his nose.
"Sucks to be you, huh?" I breathe smugly. "I'm a girl half your age and size, and yet, you're stuck in a hard place, aren't you?"
He laughs again at that.
Then, before I can make any sense of it, I'm flipped over on my back against the carpet and his entire body is over mine, covering me like weights. He grabs me by the strands of my hair, and I flinch. And then he moves my hair out-of-the-way with his fingers, and puts his mouth near the space below my earlobe. "See, by now, you would already be dead," he whispers harshly into my ear. "Of course, I'm going easy on you, because this is all just for practise. It isn't real." His hand tightens in my hair, and I suppress a whimper, clenching my eyes tight. "But know this, anyone who acts like you, in a real fight, has a death-wish. Getting cocky isn't the answer."
Gritting my teeth, I try to do what he did, in rolling my hips to try buckle him off. Only its no good for me. He's way too stronger than me, physically. I tire out very quickly.
"Get off, Eric," I seethe through my teeth. "You weigh a frigging ton! It's an unfair advantage!"
"Is it?" He doesn't help me any, he doesn't show me mercy at all. Sliding with his legs, he uses his knees to pin my shoulders down to the carpet, while his hand tightens over my neck. He hovers over me and leans down over the side of my face, putting his face an inch or so near mine, with his fangs on full display.
"Poor little fairy," he teases with a grin. "You're all trapped. What are you going to do now?"
I start moving again, but it's a real struggle to unseat him. He's holding me down with all his weight, and his lock on my throat is too tight.
"I don't know what to do," I snarl up at him. "Help me out here! Please!"
"Wrong answer," he breathes roughly over my face. "You know exactly what you're supposed to do. You are a fairy, so act like one!"
Tightening his grasp on my chin, he surveys my face with his eyes closely for a moment, turning it side to side like I'm just something to stare at. Then he looks down pointedly at the zit on my chin, laughs cruelly, and it's enough to get me out of my funk. He may be my best friend, but honestly, at this point I couldn't care less about hurting him.
Curling my hand into a tight fist, I swing it up, managing to effectively clobber him around the face with my elbow. He makes a pained noise at the hit, and then he turns to peer down at me again approvingly. Blood is dribbling out of his nose.
"Very good," he nods, and finally, he releases his grasp on my hair to bring his hand up to his nose. He wipes the blood off with the back of his hand carelessly, and then moves it back down to go to touch my face with his fingers. "But not good enough. Be a fairy!"
"How?" I scream out.
"You know how!"
He runs a finger down the tip of my nose, and I attempt to bite it, but then he grabs the back of my hair again, forcing me back to the ground. I clamp my teeth together, my chest heaving with fury. He's really going to great lengths to egg me on.
"I think..." he almost purrs. "You just don't want to hurt me because you love me, don't you?"
I make a snorting noise. "Love you? Get over yourself, buddy!"
"But you do, don't you?" Teasingly, he traces his forefinger around the outline of my lips. "Isn't that what last night was all about, Sookie? You kissed me! You love me! Isn't that sweet? It makes me want to fucking cry!"
"Shut up!" I feel my face burning. "It was just a goodnight kiss!"
"Really? Oh, I don't know. If it was just a goodnight kiss, then why can't you really hurt me? Be a fairy. Defend yourself."
His words are really enough. Closing my eyes, I force all my energy into getting into a big huff. I think of the words he just said to me, his taunting and teasing. His mean nickname all due to the grotesque zit on my face. Opening my eyes, I grab his face between my hands tightly. And then it happens.
A great big light zaps him on his temples, rising from my fingers with a snap.
Eric's fangs retract, and then he is scrambling backwards from me on all fours, hasty to get away from the light zapping him and all the pain it presents. I stare after him in shock. Tears well up in my eyes. I really hope I haven't hurt him too much. The sound of Grandpa Niall's gleeful laughter tears me out of my shock.
"Wonderful, dear girl!" He claps loudly. "It took you some provoking, but you finally got there in the end! Just wonderful!"
I stare at Eric worriedly as he gets to his feet and dusts off his trousers. He seems alright, but I'm still worried I've seriously hurt him. All that worry ends, though, when he holds his hand out to me. He helps me up off the carpet and ruffles the top of my hair with one of his hands. I laugh and then everything seems amazingly normal between us again, which is really a relief.
Fighting with someone, no matter how fake it is, is a difficult thing to do. Especially when that other person is one of your closest friends in the universe. But Eric seems truly alright. As for me, however, my limbs feel sore and my shoulder aches dully from throwing that elbow jab his way.
"How'd I go?" I ask both Grandpa and Eric eagerly.
Grandpa Niall is the one to answer first. "Not bad," he says gently. "But you've still got a lot of work ahead of you yet."
"It was harder than I thought it would be," I admit. "Trying to fight against Eric, I mean. I really didn't want to hurt him too seriously." I send a look Eric's way again, just to make sure.
He brushes my concern off with a shrug. "I'm fine, Sookie." He puts his hand underneath my chin; His cool fingers tickling me. "In fact, I'm more than fine. I'm impressed."
It seems to do the trick in easing my guilt. I beam up at him. "Well, thanks," I whisper shyly. "I'm real glad."
"But Niall is right." He holds my gaze sternly. "You have a lot of hard work ahead of you." Suddenly, I feel as if I'm a child being lectured by her teacher. Which I sort of am. "You can't hesitate to defend yourself. Warlow certainly won't."
I roll my eyes at him. "But you're not this Warlow guy," I point out. "You're my buddy. Of course I hesitated."
"Well, you shouldn't." Bewildered, I can only stand there while he leans down to press a brief kiss to my forehead. A funny feeling erupts inside of me. "You need to start taking this a little more seriously. Your survival depends on it."
What is this? Gang up on Sookie night?
"Yes, alright," I hiss. "And I will, when the appropriate time comes anyway."
Standing back, Eric sends a curt and wordless nod my Grandpa's way. Then he turns to retrieve his jacket from my bed. I know I should really talk to him about what has been on my mind all day, and that's what I did senselessly last night in kissing him on the lips goodnight. I don't know if he's already forgotten it, and maybe I'm just being paranoid, but I sense some weird kind of change and tension between us. I know he hasn't forgotten, though, because he taunted me over the very thing while we were fake-fighting. I know he's getting ready to leave when he starts towards my window. I stop him by reaching out and grabbing his arm quickly, pulling him back. He turns to look down at me quizzically with raised eyebrows.
I don't even know where to start, for the life of me. But I think an apology might be needed to get things right between us again. "Did I get up your craw last night?" I ask nervously.
He pauses from sliding into the sleeves of his leather jacket to look at me again quickly. His face is clouded with confusion. "Did you what?"
"Get up your craw?"
He laughs hoarsely. "I don't think I understand what that means, Sookie."
"Well..." I peer down at my bare feet, twiddling my toes. "I thought you were mad at me, because of the other night. I hope we're still friends. We are, right?"
"Why wouldn't we be?"
This really was going to be hard, Evidently he was pretending it never happened between us. "For kissing you, of course," I finally say, once finding my courage. "For kissing you goodnight or goodbye, or whatever it was."
"Yes. Why did you do that?" He examines my face carefully. "What was going through your head?"
"I don't know," I whisper, baffled. "I was kinda... half-asleep when I did it. I just meant to say goodbye. Or goodnight."
"If you were half-asleep, as you say you were, then why do you feel it necessary to apologize? It's really no big deal. I've endured a lot worse from the opposite sex, believe me." He laughs, and easing my tension, it brings me back to myself.
"Really? What's the worst?" I ask, mainly to cover my embarrassment.
He just shakes his head. It's obvious he doesn't feel it right to tell me. He says as much next. "Maybe when you're a bit older, Sookie. Maybe I'll tell you all about it then."
He laughs to himself again as he steps over the ledge of the window, and then, sending a wink into my direction, that's it and he's gone, shooting off into the air, as he does. Mr. Flyer.
Feeling awkward, I pull down my window and turn back to my Grandpa to find him sitting on the edge of my bed quietly.
He looks very depressed, and I know a person in need of some good, old cheering when I see one. "You know what makes me feel better when I'm sad, Grandpa?"
"What, dear girl?" He's clueless. Even better.
Suppressing a wicked smile, I find my plastic bag of candy bananas. When I sit down on the bed with the plastic bag in my hands across from him, I see my Grandpa eyeing me curiously. He obviously doesn't know what the contents in the bag are, which, truth be told, makes this a billion times more funnier. If I can somehow pass my crazy love for candy bananas onto somebody else, I won't feel as weird about myself.
"What are those?" Grandpa asks, sounding a little disgusted.
"These," I say, giving the bag a little shake, "Are the best. You've got to try them. Somehow, they just wash all your worries away."
Opening the bag, I offer him some. He takes one out and inspects the little banana with a funny mixture of both curiosity and intrigue as he holds it close to his eyes with his fingers. It's obvious he doesn't know what to do with it, so I make a very clear demonstration by popping one in my mouth and pushing it around my teeth loudly so it clicks against my teeth. Grandpa Niall makes a noise of surprise.
"You eat these?"
"Yep, and they're so good, Grandpa." And, at that, he doesn't need anymore coaxing from me. He pops the banana in his mouth and makes a gentle noise of approval.
"Oh, yes," he breathes. "It is quite delicious. The taste lingers in your mouth."
"Isn't it?" I agree, pleased as pie somebody else seems to like them. "These are my favorite lollies right now. I eat them all the time. I can never seem to get enough of them."
"Yes, I can see why. They are very nice."
But, unfortunately, even candy bananas aren't enough to brighten my Grandpa's mood. Nor is watching me learn how to fight. Slowly, his intrigue for the flavor of the lolly fizzles out. He looks just as miserable as he did a few minutes ago. It's obvious I'm going to have to try a new tactic.
"Is Jason like me as well?"
"Who is Jason?" He sounds utterly sincere. He doesn't know who Jason is, and yet, how couldn't he? He's supposed to be our biological Grandfather, after all!
"Um, Jason's my brother. And, also, I guess he would be your Grandson. You really don't know about Jason?"
"Well, I've never needed to know about Jason," he says, frowning. "You are the most like me. I have no special need to meet Jason."
Him, saying that, completely takes me by surprise. All right, so Jason isn't like me then. I know for a fact that he doesn't have any abilities, like I do, that tends to trouble him. If he did, he wouldn't have been so embarrassed about having to associate with me in public. At home, Jason and I were about as normal as two siblings could get. But, at school, Jason tends to ignore me. It's partly because he cares so much about what other people think of him. People think I'm weird, a loser, and Jason wouldn't like for people to think that about him, either. So I guess that's why he tends to ignore me at school. But Jason had as much right as I did in meeting our actual real Grandfather, didn't he? I don't think Jason would be very happy to know our real Grandfather is excluding him on purpose.
"Don't you want to meet Jason?" I ask, confused.
"Not particularly," he admits with a careless shrug. "He isn't the one with some psycho bastard after him. He's got nothing at all to worry about."
Ah, yes. This psycho bastard. "Should I be scared about this Warlow guy?" I ask him uncertainly. "I'm disgusted that he hurt your ancestors and that he invaded your home. Believe me, I am. I just wish I knew more about him, and why he wants me so much. I mean, what's that interesting about me? Aside from the fact that I'm a fairy?"
"He feels you two are kindred spirits. He's been seeking a woman like you for a very long time."
"Woman?" I croak out. "I'm only fourteen. I'm hardly a woman yet, Grandpa."
"Yes, I guess you could say so." He laughs, a bit fondly. "But to a bastard like Warlow, it don't make much difference. He's very old, you see. Too old, and when you're old, you get lonely and crave companionship. He's tracked your scent."
"My scent? I have a scent?"
"You do. One that makes you stand out from all the rest, as do I." He shakes his head. "You see, to vampires, our fairy scents can be very alluring. Warlow is five-thousand years old, older than even Eric. He found your scent, and it lured him to stay in Bon Temps. Because he's half-vampire, tracking you is easy."
"Does he want to kill me or what?"
"Well, it's as I said. He craves companionship. I believe he wants you as his fairy-vampire bride." Suddenly, Niall staggers to his feet, clutching his old walking cane. Fantastic. Now he's leaving, too...
I open my mouth to protest, but then realize he's right. He probably should leave. I've got to wake up early tomorrow for school.
He pats me on the shoulder gently. "The vampire Eric is not a bad man, and he has grown particularly fond of you." Grandpa gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. "You could have picked way worse, but he seems right for you. Sleep well, my dear."
Then, with a pop, Grandpa is gone and I'm sitting alone on my bed. There was no need to ask what he meant in saying that about Eric. I smile to myself. Of course Eric isn't a bad man. If he was, then he wouldn't be my bestie, that's for sure. His other words confuse me, though: I could have picked way worse. Now what's that supposed to mean?
Waking the next morning, I feel in a funk.
Muscles I never even knew existed feel tense and achy from fighting with Eric last night. I even discover I have a bruise on my elbow from clobbering him in the face. But, above all this, worst of all in my view, is that I've got another zit-invasion. This time, it's on the right side of my cheek. Eric was right, I guess. I am pretty spotty, and it sucks. When I get changed and ready for school, Gran waves me off eagerly on the front porch. I wish I shared her enthusiasm, but honestly, I'm not looking forward to another day of people wondering what's going on with the condition of my skin when they think about it. Tightening my backpack around my shoulders and having no success in shaking my depression off, I start on my daily walk to high school.
Usually, I walk every morning. It's something I enjoy. I feel I've grown into more of a Nature Girl. I enjoy walking in the early morning glow of sun. I especially enjoy the shortcut I take to school every weekday. It takes about twenty-five minutes to get to school if you don't take the shortcut, but since I take it, I usually get there early enough to talk to Tara before the bell goes off for first lesson of the day.
I slip off the road and follow the beaten-down, flattened track I've come to learn by heart.
The start to the day is reasonably warm, and as I duck through the bushes, I realize its foggy enough for mosquito's today. They swirl around me, and I have to wave them away frantically. I start humming to myself, and then I hear a noise to the left of me behind a tree. I freeze, and scan the area suspiciously.
The sound repeats. High pitched and aggravated. I realize it's a man moaning.
As I follow the sound slowly, I think I about realize what's going down.
There is a man tied to the thick trunk of a tree by the wrists. Long rope keeps him at the tree and he keeps trying all his might into escaping free by wiggling his hands around. It isn't doing him any good, obviously.
I approach him cautiously, pushing through a long branch, because even though he's tied securely to the tree trunk, I still don't know whether he is dangerous or not. For all I know, he could be this Warlow psycho.
"Hi," I say. It stops his struggling at once and he turns to look at me in alarm. A lot closer, I can make out his features. Grey, bright eyes fix on me helplessly. He looks about Eric's age, only he's darker and his skin isn't as fair. He also sure looks like he could use a shave; Half of the brown shirt he is wearing is torn open at the collar and his chest is covered in thick, curly brown hairs. Ugh. I step closer towards him slowly, still cautious and wary. "Hello," I say again. "What are you doing out here?"
"Please, little girl," he whispers urgently. He sounds like he has a real sore throat. He's also got an accent similar to Mr. Darcy. A British accent. "You need to help me. I'm stuck!" To show how stuck he is, I guess, he pushes against the rope restraining his hands again from behind his head, jerking his arms around roughly. "Please, this stupid rope won't let me loose!"
"How'd you get caught in the first place?" I ask, kneeling beside him.
"Just please," he gasps, turning his eyes on me again desperately. "I've been stuck here all night. I need water and food. Please, get me loose. Please, little girl. I'll forever be in your debts."
Geez Louise. I really don't know what I should do. I know it isn't very good to trust any strangers. My mind drifts back to my Grandfather's words last night. Warlow is apparently back in town. But how do I know who this Warlow is, if I don't even know what he looks like? I stare the man down. He doesn't look like a vampire. I mean, its early morning. The sun is already out. Several rays of light are hitting his skin, and he isn't crisping any. Apparently the guy could notice my indecision.
"Please," he begs hoarsely. "I've been stuck here all bloody night. Please, show me some mercy in helping untie me from these restraints!"
Oh, bother.
He isn't going to give it up, and it's obvious he really is stuck in a pickle. Just to be sure, I work on opening up my mind to him, only to be greeted with silence. That gave me two options that I know of: Vampires minds, I can't read. And I couldn't read my fairy Grandpa's either, unless he let me in willingly. This man obviously isn't keen on letting me in. So, what's he hiding?
"What's your name?" I ask, as kindly as possible. I just have to know.
He makes an anguished noise. "Just please, help release me," he begs, and tears build in his eyes. "It is not a time for questions. I'll give you them later, I assure you. But please. I am growing weak and tired. I need to be free of these restraints! Please, my beautiful, young Sookie!"
My chest drops and I fall back onto my heels. My beautiful Sookie? I hadn't even told him my name!
Bells start signalling inside my head, ones of the warning kind. There's something fishy about this fellow indeed.
"What is your name?" I ask, a little more forcefully.
He groans and closes his eyes tiredly. "Please. Questions later."
"Fine," I answer shortly. Suppressing a sigh, I get up on my feet, dust my knees off, and scoot over to the back of the tree, where the knot in the rope is. He stays very still and doesn't make anymore noises while I attempt to untie the knot with my fingers. I've never been good with untying things, though, so it's hard. "How'd you come to get like this, anyway?"
"I'm not so sure," he pants breathlessly. "Somebody must have set an animal trap, which got me caught to this tree. I was walking in the dark. I couldn't see. I was blinded by the darkness."
"Well, it seems somebody tied it up real tight," I grumble under my breath. "I'm no good at this kind of thing."
"But you will try, yes?"
"Yep, I'm trying."
"Where are you off to?" he asks with interest, to make general conversation, I think.
"I was heading off to school. Now you're kinda making me late."
"Oh, sorry," he says very apologetically.
"Yeah, I'll probably risk getting a detention thanks to you." While I'm struggling through the knot, I open my mind to the man again. Exactly as before, it's silent. "What are you?" I ask, before I can help myself. I know it's rude, but I've just got to know.
"What do you mean?" he asks, sounding confused.
"Well, are you a fairy or are you a vampire?"
There is a huge lingering silence on his end of the trunk. Then he says slowly, with an edge of reluctance in his tone, "Both."
Uh-huh. And that's all I need to hear.
Warlow.