A/N: Alright, alright, put down the torches and pitchforks. I had intended to give myself a few days to breathe, but began to fear for my personal safety if I left you all hanging. Because of this, the chapter is a bit shorter than I'd originally intended, but I thought you'd prefer that to the wait. Let it never be said the evil cliffhanger queen can't occasionally be nice, ha ha!
Part two of Left For Dead will be entirely from Eric's POV (unless otherwise indicated). Thanks, as always, for the reviews (even though some of them cause me to seriously consider restraining orders). I hope you continue to enjoy my warped brain.
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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Left For Dead – Part II
Hummingbird Lane was deserted, as usual, when Eric Northman guided the BMW over the familiar, crunching gravel driveway. Throwing the rental car in park and cutting the engine, he allowed himself a few moments just to take in the sight of the darkened old farmhouse. He knew every angle, every cracked step, every tree in the yard as well as he knew his own mind. The images of it would be forever burned into his memory, just as she would.
He exited the car into the still night, gliding silently up the steps to the back door, fishing the keys from the pocket of his jeans. The lock yielded and soon he was in the kitchen, headed for the refrigerator. Thankfully, the Witch had remembered to stock it for him this evening. He didn't bother to heat the True Blood, taking it straight into the empty living room where he settled onto the sofa. Eric clicked on the television just as the ball in Times Square was making its descent, the announcer proclaiming the new year had officially begun.
"All of us here at channel 5 wish you a happy and healthy 2015!"
He took a swig of his drink, hardly registering the foul taste of what barely passed for sustenance, and hit the power button on the television remote. His eyes focused on nothing in particular as he sat in the dark, listening to the creaking of the old house. This would be the last New Year's Eve he'd spend here.
Seven years had passed since that night in the desert. In a few weeks she'd be legally declared dead, and the worthless brother would own her home. Eric offered him a ridiculous sum of money to purchase it, but he'd refused, saying he would never see his family's heritage in the hands of a bloodsucker. He intended to use it as a vacation rental now that Amelia had married Dawson and would be moving out. It took every ounce of restraint Eric possessed not to kill him.
He rose from the couch, setting the bottle down on the coffee table and moving to the fireplace. There was no wood, but he'd make do with his memories of the flames as he lowered himself to the floor. He methodically recalled every detail of the talks they'd had here, playing them like a movie in his mind.
A human court pronouncing her dead mattered not to him. He would never give up his search for her. She was still out there... somewhere. The bond may be blocked, the center wrapped in a haze he could not penetrate, but it was not gone. His other half was still alive, hidden from his sight, but never from his soul.
They'd all woken in Fangtasia that night seven years ago, sprawled out in heaps across the floor of the bar. He'd been surprised to see Merlotte was with them, having expected he'd be kept behind to complete Avel's plan. Eric had debated with himself many times whether or not his being there was a good thing. He worked hard at not thinking about what might be happening to his bonded. There was no point in doing so. Finding her was the only priority, any aftermath of her time held prisoner could be dealt with.
He told most of them as little as necessary, revealing only that she had been taken by a daemon for reasons unknown. The only one who knew the full story was Bill. Eric knew him to be the only other who would dedicate himself tirelessly to finding her; Bill's motivations came from the same place Eric's did, and in time he had revealed everything to him. Certainly the others would do what they could, but they would eventually lose faith. Pam would do whatever was asked of her for as long as it was asked, but in time she too would grow weary of it. They would all want to grieve and move on.
Avel did make good on his promise to Sookie. The very next night an 'anonymous' tipster sent video to a local news station which showed the Fellowship committing the attacks. It was done in the style of a training video for their followers, complete with instructions on how to make bodies appear to be the victims of vampires. The tribunal was called off, Phemonoe having made some explanation for their sudden disappearance, and Edgington and Victor entered the limelight as the new spokesmen for the AVL. Eric had refused to be used as some public relations puppet. He did, however, make certain that the tiger and his sister met a slow and torturous death at his hands.
His Maker had no explanations for where Avel was or what he'd done with Sookie. She had also lost contact with Rachal, but seemed certain she still occupied her lake near the Temple. Like Eric, Phemonoe had been shuttered from the crossroads, unable to return to her realm. Of course, her take on that couldn't have been farther from Eric's. She believed this was all part of Amun's great plan, and if they remained faithful, all would be revealed in time. Eric must have destroyed every piece of furniture in that chamber in Egypt where she'd taken up temporary residence, his rage having reached the breaking point. In the end he'd disavowed her, saying if she ever called to him she would meet the edge of his blade. She'd let him go without a word, perhaps knowing better than to test his resolve, but more likely because she knew his pain.
Brigant was only slightly more helpful. When Eric contacted him through Claudine, Niall said only that he would also search for Sookie, but did not expect to find her. He suspected the daemon would bring her to his own realm, situated between the mortal and divine spheres, a place none of them could access. He seemed convinced Avel's attempts to have his Great Granddaughter conceive would be unsuccessful, but refused to elaborate on the reasons. In later years they theorized together that this might indeed be the case, and the reason she had not been returned. Niall feared what would happen should Avel finally give up.
Eric growled as he felt the vibration of his cell phone in his pocket. Pulling it out and looking at the caller ID, he flicked it open with no small measure of annoyance.
"This better be important, Pam."
"Your Majesty, forgive me, I know you do not wish to be disturbed this evening. I received a call from Bill regarding that investment opportunity in Venice, and he says it is most urgent you join him there as soon as possible."
Pam only addressed him by his formal title when she was nervous of his temper, so Eric knew whatever this crisis was, it was important enough for her to risk disturbing him tonight. When Eric realized finding his bonded would be no small task, he'd quickly accepted Russell's offer to take over Louisiana. As King he would have the entire state's vampire population at his disposal for his search and any possible rescue mission, and he would not need to concern himself over keeping a ruler content with him. Every vampire in Louisiana knew the rewards would be enormous should they find information as to his missing bonded's whereabouts. In addition, new doors would be open to him, new contacts made, and his status throughout the supernatural community elevated. He'd taken advantage of it many times over already, having visited with numerous scholars and powerful beings, trying to determine a way to enter Avel's realm. Though his attempts thus far had been fruitless, he would continue to work his contacts for new avenues to pursue.
"I assume negotiations over the database are breaking down?" he sighed.
Pam replied hesitantly, "That is the impression I got from Bill. Apparently King Bianchi is rather... eccentric in his business acumen."
Eric rolled his eyes. He was more than familiar with Antonio's 'eccentricities' – it was a polite way of saying the vampire was a greedy bastard. Not long after Eric became King, Bill had begun traveling the world to sell his database, adding to it along the way. It was merely an excuse to search for clues to Sookie's whereabouts, providing logical reasons for him to enter the kingdoms of other vampires without too many questions. He and Eric had agreed on this plan, keeping in regular contact about leads Bill uncovered which Eric could then act upon. Over the years they'd gone from being respected colleagues to something Eric might almost describe as friends. They never spoke of Bill saving him from Elana's stake, but Eric knew he would one day return the favor.
"Make the arrangements. I'll leave from Shreveport tomorrow evening, no reason for me to return to New Orleans," he instructed his second in command.
"Already done, Your Majesty. You leave on Anubis at 6:40pm. Bill has arranged for your transport upon your arrival in Venice."
Eric flicked the phone shut, returning it to his pocket, hoping nothing else would interrupt his evening. He allowed himself this one night each year to dedicate his thoughts solely to her. There were many who, if in his shoes, would have crumbled long ago, but Eric was never one for wallowing or self-pity. He was a vampire of purpose and action, driven to succeed in any endeavors he undertook. Whether as simple as fucking a woman to the point of insanity, or as complex as the political maneuvering during a vampire summit, Eric expected no less than perfection from himself.
Only twice in his long existence he had utterly failed in this. The first was when his wife and children were taken from him, slaughtered before his eyes. He was determined his bonded would not suffer the same fate. Eric had vowed to her that he would not fail her. It was a promise he was unable to keep. He'd run over the mistakes he made that night so many times, cursing himself for allowing his emotions to cloud his judgment. He hesitated in killing the daemon because of Sam. Merlotte would have perished if not released from the mind control of Avel before his death. Eric knew Sookie would never forgive him if he sacrificed the shifter to save her. That mistake had cost them everything.
Unlike his failure with his mortal family, however, he still had hope of making this right, of finding redemption. It was this thought that kept him going, kept him searching. He would not succumb to his rage... not yet.
Slowly he got to his feet, allowing his eyes to sweep over the room before walking down the hall. He paused at the door to her bedroom, leaning his shoulder against the frame. Many of the items that used to cover her shelves and dresser were contained in boxes on the floor, waiting to be put into storage. More and more traces of her disappeared with each passing year, as if she was being slowly erased from the town she'd loved and called home. Two years ago Sam closed down his bar, moving back to Texas. Eric recalled the pain in his voice when the shifter said he could no longer cope with the constant reminders of her. It was in stark contrast to the way Eric clung to those memories, doing whatever he could to preserve them. Soon they would only be in his mind.
He moved across the floor, kneeling at the edge of her bed. His hands slowly ran across the mattress. This was the first place they'd made love. It was the spot he regained his memories of their time together. He lay his head down, closing his eyes, and inhaled the faint traces of her scent that still clung to the fabric.
"I miss you, Dear One..." he whispered to the darkness.
There he remained till dawn began to draw near. For hours he replayed his memories, from the most trivial of their banter, to the reverence of their love making. Someday she would be in his arms again, and he would never let her go. He would turn her and keep her at his side for all eternity. Every night he would show her the depth of his love. He would cherish her as the angel she is... his peace... his light.
Just as the sun began to peek over the horizon he lowered himself into the 'hidey-hole' in her old closet, keenly aware that these were the last moments he would have here, in her place. Tomorrow he would be back in his role as King, pragmatist, and vampire void of emotion. Tonight, he would allow himself a single tear for her and for all they had endured. He would make his prayers to Hlin for one last chance to make it right.
TBC