A/N: I apologize it took me a bit longer than usual to get this chapter out, but I've been inundated with family and holiday things. I will try to get another one out tomorrow, but it most likely will not be till the 26th.

I have to send an enormous thank you out to Morgaine from the TB Wiki for her invaluable help with all the research that was required for this and future chapters. Left For Dead would not have happened without her.

Thank you once again for all the wonderful (and often laughter-inducing) reviews. You all continue to inspire me.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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I clutched at my chest, trying to regain my breath, the overwhelming 'pull' I was feeling beginning to subside. I looked up into Eric's eyes, trying to convey my desperation for some explanation, though I dared not give voice to it. He was still beaming with a look of pure... joy. I simply couldn't bring myself to rob him of whatever he was feeling, despite my agonizing need for answers. If he wasn't afraid, I supposed there was no reason for me to be, and it was certainly rare to see (and feel) such uninhibited happiness from him.

His hands grasped my shoulders, steadying me, making sure I had my knees back under me. Moving too quickly for me to follow, he was soon completely dressed in jeans, a simple black tee, and his heavy black boots. He smiled at me as he reached to pluck a belt from the top of the bureau. I noticed this buckle, like all his others, was very ornate. Studying it, the circular design appeared to be that of a snake eating its own tail.

"It is Jörmungandr," he said, apparently noticing my interest.

I glanced at him, the foreign word having no meaning for me.

"Ah," he paused, seeming to search his memory for a moment. "You probably know it as the Ouroboros."

That word rang a bell. I asked Amelia once to give me a brief overview of her beliefs, figuring I ought to know more about my magick working housemate. She spoke of the Goddess and the cyclical nature of the universe, and how She was often represented as a dragon or a serpent.

Eric smiled as he finished buckling his belt and held his hand out to me, "Ready, lover?"

"Umm... I guess so?" I said, having no idea what it is I was supposed to be ready for. Confusion might as well be my middle name at this point, so I just took Eric's hand, following him back up the stairs.

"Oh!" I gasped as we entered the office.

Pam and Chow were gone. Eric gave my hand a little squeeze, sending waves of calm through the bond, but I did catch a hint of his own surprise. We continued out of the office and down the hallway to the bar, pausing in the doorway. It was also empty of its previous occupants. The lights were dim, and a chill ran through me from the silence. The stillness of the atmosphere somehow seemed to vibrate now, like gentle undercurrents of energy, or maybe magick, were brushing across my skin. I watched as Eric inhaled, taking in the scents of the air around us. His grin grew even wider, and I was overcome with another rush of joy through the bond.

"Come out, come out," he called.

"There's just no hiding from you, is there?" replied a lilting female voice.

I couldn't help but inhale at the sight of her as she floated out from the shadows. I could tell you how she had thick, luxurious hair the color of light milk chocolate, cascading in long waves to brush her hips. I could describe the ice blue of her eyes that rivaled Eric's in their brilliance. I could mention her tall, curvaceous form and how it reminded me of the women in Botticelli's paintings. Yes, I could say all that, but it could not begin to convey the ethereal beauty of this woman, cloaked in flowing, emerald green robes. Even Claudine paled by comparison.

"Rachal!" Eric beamed, dropping my hand and running to embrace her.

I admit it... I was probably as green as her robes from the jealousy that flared through me in that instant, watching my Viking clinging to this beautiful woman, who obviously returned his affection. I felt the happiness flooding through him as he engulfed her in his arms, and even heard his rumble of contentment when she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Eric," she breathed, "It has been far too long." Even her voice was beautiful.

I shifted a bit awkwardly on my feet, having no idea what to make of this. I didn't need my gift to tell me that this Rachal was something other than human, but her signature wasn't familiar. In a way it was similar to the vampire void, because there was nothing I could 'latch' onto, but it wasn't a void at all. Instead of a hole, it was more like a hazy blue cloud cloaking her mind. I reached out, trying to see if I could wade through the blue mist, but it just continued to swirl and refill, creating a seemingly endless fog.

Then I felt her gaze upon me, even as her head still lay on Eric's shoulder, and I startled a bit. She must have felt my probing. The ice blue pools of her eyes shimmered as they locked with mine, holding me captive, but I felt no fear. There was something utterly benevolent in her gaze... gentle, like ocean waves lapping the shore. She lifted her head with a tender smile that brought one to my own lips.

Eric brought his hands to Rachal's face, tilting his lips to her forehead in a soft kiss. Part of me wanted to scream, part of me wanted to cry... all of me wanted to run. The way he touched her was so reverent, tender even. I did not feel anything resembling lust or passion through our bond, but there was no denying the waves of love. Don't jump to conclusions, I scolded myself.

"I was hoping it would be you she sent," Eric murmured to her.

I was beginning to wonder if he'd forgotten I even existed, feeling decidedly like a third wheel at this point. I took a deep breath, willing my threatening tears not to fall, and tried to swallow down the growing ache rising in my chest. I had assumed this was the 'she' that was 'calling' him, but his words to her now cast some doubt on that.

Rachal smiled up at Eric, tracing a fingertip across his brow, "I insisted on it. Now," she said, stepping back from his arms and turning her gaze toward me, "Are you going to introduce us?"

Eric broke from his reverie, and I sensed his awareness returning to our bond, along with a wave of guilt. In an instant he was behind me, wrapping his arms gently around me, and pulling my back softly against his chest.

"Dear One, forgive my rudeness, it has been over two hundred years since I have seen my sister."

Sister?!? I blinked, turning my head to look up at his smiling face.

"Sookie," he beamed, "Meet Rachal. Rachal, this is Sookie."

Rachal glided over to me, taking one of my hands between hers. She gave me another gentle smile. I'm sure I looked like a deer stuck in headlights.

"Sookie," she lilted, "It is so wonderful to meet you."

"Y... you, too," I stammered awkwardly.

She looked back up at Eric, the smile never leaving her, and still holding my hand. "You are happy," she stated without a hint of question.

Eric squeezed me a little tighter, and Rachal's eyes glistened with joy at his silent response.

My curiosity was beginning to get the better of me. It was true, I could see somewhat of a family resemblance between the two. Certainly they were both beautiful beyond words. They had those similar, brilliant blue eyes (though hers were lighter) that one could easily get lost in. Both were tall, their frames easily the muse for a master sculptor. However, there was an obvious question that I desperately wanted answered, I just needed to figure out the least offensive way to ask.

"Eric," I said tentatively, glancing back up to him, "Weren't you... human? I mean, before you were turned?"

"Mostly," he said, a small smirk on his lips. "In so much as you are human, Dear One. Although, after recent events, I am beginning to think I was more human than you have ever been."

"Now brother," Rachal laughed, "I am not convinced you are not at least partially responsible for this little... mishap."

It was now Eric's turn to look like a deer caught in headlights, and I grinned with the satisfaction of someone else finally feeling confused.

"Come," Rachal said, gesturing over to Eric's booth, "Let us sit." I idly wondered how she knew which one was his.

Rachal slid gracefully into the booth on one side, Eric and I on the other. He sat sideways, propping his back against the wall and one foot on top of the seat. This forced me to sit between his legs, my back to his chest, not that I minded. Now that I knew Rachal wasn't any sort of... competition, I felt myself beginning to relax. I watched in amazement as she sort of waved her hand over the table, and a goblet appeared before each of us.

"Honey mead for the ladies, and a special blend for the gentleman," she winked at me.

I smiled, taking a sip. While alcohol is not something I drink often, I had to admit this tasted better than any gin and tonic. "Thank you," I replied.

Eric rumbled with satisfaction as he took a long drink. I could only assume it was some special sort of blood. He began to run his fingers lazily through my hair. Rachal was positively beaming at him.

"Little brother, I never thought I would see the day," she quipped. Eric just snorted.

This was becoming almost amusing, "Little brother?" I giggled. The word little was not one I ever expected to hear applied to Eric.

Rachal laughed right along with me, "Yes, by about ten years, in fact. We are actually only half siblings, sharing the same Father." I listened eagerly as Rachal recounted their story, Eric staying surprisingly silent.

"Our Father was a great warrior of the Viking people. Sadly, I never got the chance to meet him. He met my Mother when he was very young, and was enraptured by her, as most men were. She was what you might know as a Naiad," Rachal continued.

"A water nymph," I said, feeling a swell of pride from Eric.

"That's right," Rachal smiled. "When the Chieftain learned our Father had won her favor, he was enraged, and sent all his men with buckets to drain the tiny spring she resided in. My Mother knew danger was at hand, and placed me in the care of her most trusted devotees. Naiad's lives are tied directly to their home, and when the spring perished, so did she."

I gasped, but was stilled by Eric's fingers on my shoulder.

"Our Father, whose name was Adiærf , was so consumed with grief over the loss of her, that he slew the Cheiftain and claimed the title for himself. The great warrior was now a great leader, and a few years later, he took a human wife. This is, of course, when my baby brother here came about. How I wish I could have seen him then, I'm sure he was twice the handful he is now," she laughed.

Eric grumbled, "That is enough, Rachal."

"Oh, Eric, I'm sure Sookie is well aware of your more... maddening qualities," she winked at me again.

I had to fight to stifle my giggles, but broke the tension with, what I thought, was an obvious question. "If both Eric's Father and Mother were human, then where does the non-human part come in?"

"His maternal Great Grandfather was a Satyr," she said in a completely matter-of-fact tone.

Well, that certainly explained a few things. From what I recalled of my readings on mythology, Satyrs were associated with Dionysus. They were great lovers of women, wine, and just about anything associated with physical pleasure. The roguish Puck from A Midsummer Night's Dream came to mind. The idea that Eric was a descendant of one of these creatures certainly made sense.

"So, if you had already been hidden away before Eric was born, how did you two end up meeting?"

Rachal's gaze raised to Eric the moment I asked, and I instantly knew there was much more to this story.

"We should probably get going," she said.

"Yes, I'd like to avoid Sookie experiencing her call again, it nearly knocked her over the first time," he replied.

Rachal had been so forthcoming, I got frustrated that we seemed to be back to cryptic land. "If it wasn't Rachal that was... err... calling, then who was it?"

Eric was already scooping me up into his arms, carrying me from the booth. He smiled down at me as I heard Rachal begin to chant something under her breath. The room was soon flooding with a bluish mist, much like what I had experienced with Rachal's mind. I was feeling drowsy, my vision getting blurry... and Eric's answer reached my ears just before sleep reached up to drag me under...

"The Sibyl... my Maker."

TBC