A/N: Many of you are reading this right now because you got an alert that chapter 19 was replaced. I despise that I've had to resort to this, and to the 95% of you who leave such nice reviews and PMs, I'm on my knees begging your forgiveness for this. However, there are some things that I absolutely must say at this time. The content of the chapter has not changed, but the author's note has, for reasons that I pray you will understand.
After receiving a death threat today - yes, that's right, a death threat (which has been reported to this site's admins) - there are a few things I absolutely must address at this time. For most of you, this doesn't apply, and I hate that I'm being forced to put you through reading it, but there is a small minority of reviewers/PMers that I need to read this, take it in, and take it to heart.
When I began Left For Dead I was in no way prepared for the response it has received. I knew Dead to Rights was popular, but LfD seems to have taken on a life all its own. Frankly, I thought most people would be turned off by my whacked out brain and from all the mythology. Apparently I was wrong. I have been absolutely overwhelmed by the mostly positive response to the story. I in no way expect everyone to like it, though, and that's totally fine! It is not for everyone.
Most of you know I very much appreciate constructive criticism. Bring it on! It helps me improve and grow as a writer. However. What I do not appreciate is the daily barrage of PMs from people who seem to have some sense of entitlement about the story. This falls into two categories:
1. "Update faster!! You're too slow!!" To this I say, guess what? I have a LIFE. You PMing me 2, 3, up to 7 times a day to yell at me that it's been... what... 24 hours since an update... is NOT going to make me go faster. All it does is piss me off and make me want to stop writing. I am not getting paid for this and I don't owe you anything. You cannot rush the writing process or you end up with sub-par crap. A friendly 'can't wait for the next update' or 'excited to see what's next' in a review is wonderful. PMs bordering on harassment? Rude, childish, and obnoxious. Chapters come when they come. Don't like it? Don't read it.
2. "Make your chapters longer!! They're too short!!" I have a definite pacing to my writing, and I will not interrupt it just to throw in a bunch of filler so you can read for ten more minutes. This would also serve to make the people from category one harass me even further. Guess what, I'm not a superwoman. I can't write 20 pages instead of the usual 13 or so and do it in an hour. My chapters will continue to be the length that is appropriate for that section of the story. Period.
Finally, to the 'pitchfork brigade' – it was funny, for awhile. It is no longer amusing. I have received some PMs that are downright frightening. You're going to threaten my life over a cliffhanger in a damned fanfic? I don't think so. You need a serious reality check and probably large quantities of medication. I write cliffhangers. My fans know this, and for the most part, appreciate it. Will I stop doing it? No. Don't like it? Again, stop reading! Oh, and those of you who think I'm 'fucking over Eric' because I refuse to turn him into some romantic sap, go read some Danielle Steele. Eric is ruthless. Eric is the ultimate ladies' man. Eric is strong, manipulative, devious, sensual, sexual, and beautiful. I refuse to emasculate him because you want him on his knees reciting sonnets. Is Eric romantic? He certainly can be; but he is a man of action, not words, when it comes to romance. This is my interpretation of the character and I have no intentions of changing that. I will develop my stories and my characters in my way and in the amount of time I think it should take. Don't like it? Again – we've covered what you can do about it.
To give those of you scratching your head about this rant an idea of what I'm dealing with, here are two actual PMs recently received (with unaltered, almost incomprehensible spelling/grammar):
1. I like your storys but it isnt nice that you make us wait now. You use to up date every day and now you dont but I see you arn't busy cuz you review other storys. Maybe you shuld stop wasting time reading other fics and write like you shuld cuz we are waiting!
2. Y did u do that? U made Eric nothing but a sex and blood feend. He luvs sookie and u shoud be more romantic. I liked u til now but u made Eric suck. WTF is rong with u, they have to be 2gether and be happy! Eric woud not just want to fuck her he loves her!!!
Those of you with half a brain already see my point. I have refrained from posting the actual death threat I received today because I'm not going to add fuel to that fire.
To the 95% of you who leave me wonderful reviews and PMs, you have my heartfelt apologies for having to deal with this rant. I appreciate your reviews and encouragement more than I can ever say. I've simply hit my breaking point. If it doesn't stop I will move the story to an invite only site so that I don't have to deal with the other 5% of you who seem not to possess even the most basic of manners and common decency. If you fall into this category – I will start reporting you to the site. I'd like to be able to open my email again without dreading the daily barrage of harassing and rude PMs. Again, I am so sorry for having to resort to such drastic measures. Rant over.
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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9:15pm.
Anticipation. It is one of the most complex emotions, with all its varying forms, and can be either the most useful, or the most dangerous of them all. Anticipation prior to battle can either help to squash fear, amping one up to a frenzied and excited state; or it can pave the way for that fear to become crushing and consuming, causing hesitation that will lead to final death. Anticipation prior to dealing with political rivals can aid in the formulation of well thought-out plans, causing every scenario to play through the mind to find solutions; or it can numb the mind with nervousness, overwhelming one to the point of indecisiveness and inaction.
Eric sat alone and silent on the outdoor patio, allowing his gaze to wander upward, taking in the brilliance of the night sky. This was anticipation unlike any he'd previously experienced. He waged an inner battle to get control over it, it was imperative he maintain his cool upon seeing his bonded for the first time. For that is what it was; the first time all over again. She would not know him. He would have to fight harder against his own instincts and desires than he'd ever fought in all his long years. The urge to instantly seize her in his arms, to claim her body and her blood, would be overwhelming. It was a scenario that played over and over in his mind for the past seven years, but now he was forced to look to the future, a future he never could have anticipated.
9:23pm.
"Signore Northman?"
Eric lowered his gaze to take in the older female he knew instantly to be the Romani. She was short, perhaps 5'2", and slightly on the plump side. Her olive skin was creased with fine wrinkles, and Eric placed her somewhere in her fifties. Long salt and pepper hair was held in a thick braid, draped over her left shoulder. She wore a simple, flowered dress that hung loose down to her ankles, only slightly more fitted than a mumu. Her neck and wrists were adorned with many gold chains and bangles, and she looked every bit the Gypsy that she was.
Eric gave a slight nod to the seat across from him, speaking to her in flawless Italian. "Yes. You are Giovanna, I presume?"
"I am," she replied in a low, gravely voice, and took up the seat Eric indicated.
They regarded each other for a few moments, taking in the subtleties of body language and expression. She swept her eyes over him, studying his features, making her own silent judgments, just as he did with her. He watched her lean forward toward him, arching a brow as she searched his eyes, drilling him with an intense stare.
"You are not like the others," she said simply.
Eric was a bit taken a back at her words, not knowing quite what she was referring to. There was much about him that was different from others of his kind, but very few knew to what extent. His face remained impassive.
The Gypsy snorted a bit, leaning back in her chair, "That is a good thing. If you walked among the dead, I would not return our precious Bella to you."
He cocked a brow at her, "Sookie is not yours to keep."
"Nor is she yours," she said harshly.
Eric's eyes narrowed slightly, his voice low and calm. "She is my bonded."
Giovanna chuckled, retrieving a cigarette from the pocket of her dress. "Yes, yes. Bonded," she said dismissively, lighting the cigarette. After a long drag and exhale, she leveled her intense green eyes at him. "There is far more between you than some trivial blood bond, vampire."
Eric wavered somewhere between becoming irritated and intrigued. He would not dismiss this woman as quickly as he would others if they spoke such things. Though it had been a few centuries since his last encounter with a Romani, he knew them to be wise despite their youth. Their insights into individuals and the nature of the world were unique and not to be taken lightly. However, he would not be toyed with like some young pup, either. He considered his next words carefully, allowing his lips to curl with the slightest of smirks.
"I know your kind well, Madam. You would not be sitting here had you not known about Sookie and me long before the arrival of Mr. Compton." He leaned forward a bit, a grin in his gaze. "So, what say we cut the crap, and you tell me what wisdom your Sight has revealed?"
A slow grin spread across her face then, her green eyes sparkling. "I knew I would like you, Signore!"
She chuckled heartily and the tension between them eased. Eric always preferred dealing with her type of personality, someone with whom he could speak plainly and not worry about the tiniest of nuance. It was a refreshing change of pace from the drudgery of vampire politics.
The young waitress approached, setting a steaming cup of tea before Giovanna, and then turned a questioning (and lusty) gaze to Eric. He shook his head that no, he did not require another drink at this time, and rewarded her with a momentary glimpse of his smoldering eyes. The girl opened her mouth as if to speak, turned bright red, and ran giggling back inside. Eric smirked as Giovanna rolled her eyes toward her waitress, chuckling again.
"So what is it? Fae? Incubus?" she asked Eric, recognizing his charms were certainly more than just vampire.
Eric smirked, "Let's just say I am well acquainted with Dionysus."
Giovanna roared with laughter, practically spitting the sip of tea she had just taken. "Oh, that is rich. Our innocent little Bella, mated to a prince of debauchery. How on earth did you prevent a timid thing like her from running?"
Eric immediately ceased laughing, arching a brow. "Timid? Sookie?"
"Yes, timid. That girl is frightened of her own shadow," Giovanna quirked, taking another sip of her tea.
Eric stared incredulously at the Gypsy. Timid? That would be just about the last word he'd ever use to describe his bonded. Headstrong, determined, brave, irritating, even suicidal in her courage... those were all things he would agree with. Never would he think of Sookie as meek or fragile of spirit. He began to wonder what else might be different about her.
Giovanna took note of the concern on his face, "I take it that was not her prior behavior?"
"Quite the opposite," Eric stated.
She sighed a bit, "It seems this may be a tougher road for you than I'd hoped. I thought Giacomo would be the only obstacle in your path."
At this Eric snorted, "I am not concerned with her human intended. He is nothing more than a place holder."
"You would do well to rethink that, Signore." Her tone had grown far more serious. "The hold he has on her is fierce."
Eric's eyes narrowed as he suppressed a growl. The idea that some insignificant blood bag would present some kind of an obstacle to him was not only absurd, it was insulting. "Explain."
"I wish that I could," she said hesitantly, lighting another cigarette. "When Mr. Compton finally arrived I was quite relieved. Giacomo... he may be human, but there is something entirely... unnatural about his interaction with Bella."
Eric set his jaw, "Has he harmed her?"
"Not to my knowledge," the Gypsy responded, her tone intended to calm him, but certainly she knew Giacomo would not be long for this world should Eric discover he'd laid an unkind hand on his bonded. "I will say, however, that her timidity shows most in his presence."
"I assure you, I intend to relieve her of this Giacomo quite quickly," Eric replied coldly. The idea that Sookie could be cowed by some human – by anyone – was not sitting well with him. It went against everything he knew of her, and indicated this was far more than simple memory alteration.
Giovanna nodded, "I have no doubt of your intentions, Signore, but I advise you keep that Satyr's ego in check. You arriving here now is no accident. Whomever kept her hidden from you chose this time to reveal her. Surely you've already realized this."
"I do not believe in coincidences, Madam. I am well aware this was orchestrated, and I will get to the bottom of it. However, the first order of business is to bring Sookie back to my side where I can protect her more effectively," he stated calmly, not allowing her to think for a moment she could suggest anything he had not considered, which was the truth. While he would appreciate any assistance she could offer, he did not require it, and was making clear to her she best think twice before attempting to scold him again. His tolerance had limits.
"Of course, Signore," she said with just a touch of humility. "I will see that Bella is assigned to the patio this evening. We shall talk again soon."
Eric nodded to her, both in approval of her more appropriate demeanor, and in dismissal. While he may allow for more informal and relaxed conversation with the Gypsy, she would do well to remember who she was dealing with. She rose and inclined her head, walking back into the building, and Eric was assured she would be more forthcoming with important information in the future.
9:51pm.
Eric was now convinced he would need to take a more cautious and improvisational approach to reconnecting with Sookie. Her reactions to Bill, reported lack of assertiveness, and seemingly subservient nature to the human, all added up to make Eric far more wary. He expected a more delicate touch may be required. It also made him more determined than ever. He would not see his bonded reduced to fear and cowering. She would be disgusted with herself for showing such qualities, and frankly, so would he. One of the things that first drew his attention to Sookie was her tenacity and iron will. Her essence blazed with defiance and fiery spirit, albeit sometimes to her own detriment, but these were things he would never seek to change. He often thought of her as a beautiful, wild animal that just needed a bit of refinement, and only for her own safety. Now it seemed she was trapped in a cage, and that he would not stand for.
If anyone had told him a decade ago that he'd be in this situation, he would have thought them insane. His bonded had certainly flipped his entire existence upside down. Not since his nights as a fledgling had he experienced such tumultuous times. He'd always predicated his actions and plans on the desire for steady control over himself and his surroundings. He did not appreciate chaos in any form, lest it be the bedroom. He'd succeeded at maintaining this somewhat peaceful existence until the night she walked into his bar. In that instant everything began to change, and he found himself sucked into that which he'd fought so hard to avoid.
He did not regret it for a single moment, for there were too many moments with her that made it all worthwhile. Moments he cherished. Moments he clung to. Moments he felt almost alive.
And now, it was time for another.
9:58pm. January 4th. 2015.
The patio door quietly slides open. He forces his eyes to stay glued to his cellular phone, checking his email, though not able to take in anything he is reading. Her scent has already caught the breeze. The tension in his body is palpable, but he will not let it show. He hears her soft footfalls coming toward him, and it is all he can do to keep his fangs retracted. She pauses near his table, but at a respectable distance, waiting in silence for him to acknowledge her.
Slowly, so slowly, he rakes his gaze upward from the tips of her toes... bare legs up to the knee. She is less tan than she once was. It is winter here. The hem of her dress... simple... heavy... dark blue. The fabric trembles slightly. She is nervous... knows he is an important vampire. He mustn't make her feel like a potential meal being evaluated, though he can hardly contain his urges. He wants her... needs her... to taste, to touch, to fuck.
He moves with human speed, setting the phone down in front of him... checks his fangs with his tongue, not trusting his own senses. He would take a deep breath were he human. Mentally counting backward from ten, each number a check of himself. Mustn't give in... mustn't frighten... mustn't take. Just look up.
Sapphire eyes pierce sky blue, locked. Her audible gasp tests his will. Momentarily he cannot speak, seeing the most fleeting spark of recognition cross her face, only to pass as quickly as it came. She is exactly as the vision in his mind. Thick blond tresses cascade around her shoulders. Perfect skin. Delicate cheekbones. Adorable nose. Precious lips that beg to be kissed as only he can. Pulse point on her creamy neck visible with her racing heart. The sweetest blood he has ever tasted calling to him. His hunger is as intense as his first night of rising vampire.
Her soft voice only adds to his need. "May I bring you a True Blood, Majesty?"
It takes him a moment to realize she is speaking English, though delicately accented as if Italian were her native tongue. Her heartbeat pounds in his ears, his fists clenched tightly beneath the table, out of sight. He gathers all his will, forcing his eyes and voice to soften, though there is a slight, throaty growl in his tone. It is the best he can manage.
"Please, call me Eric."
It is out of character for his kind and rank to ask a lowly human to address him so informally. She no doubt knows this. The surprise shows on her face. He is drowning in her eyes.
"Eric..." she replies hesitantly, but a soft smile graces her lips. "My name is Bella."
"Beautiful," he says, referencing the name's meaning. She blushes.
He wants to ask her to sit, but thinks better of it. As it is he can barely stop himself from grabbing her, taking her right here. His gaze is arousing her, he can sense it... smell it. She is uncomfortable with it, trying to tear her eyes away. He dare not try his glamour. She will know it if her mental abilities are unaltered. No fake smile, he notices.
She makes a bold move, reaching her arm out to take his empty bottle. Every instinct in him cries out to grab her wrist, to sink his fangs into her soft flesh. The torture of this is worse than six months in silver. He must get hold of himself. Her next words nearly catch him off guard.
"Giovanna tells me you are here on vacation from the United States?" She is nervous at being so bold, her voice quavering slightly.
He encourages her with a gentle, yet very subtly suggestive smile. "Yes."
She shuffles a bit on her feet, biting at her lower lip. This sends him into a near frenzy. Should she bite hard enough to draw even the faintest trace of blood it will be all over.
"She umm..." Sookie says hesitantly. He would never think of her in his own mind as any other name.
"Yes?" he says, prompting her to continue.
She takes a deep breath. "Giovanna suggested you might need a... um... tour guide, of sorts?"
He could not hold back a small grin. The Gypsy was already earning his respect. "It is true, I have not been to Venice in many decades. Much has changed."
He pauses, considering his words. The phrasing must be just right.
"Your English is quite good. It would be a tremendous value to me to have an assistant with the ability to translate. Would you consider temporary employment outside this café? I would pay most generously."
He was lying, of course. His Italian was impeccable, but he would not waste this opportunity.
She slides him a smile; gentle, but with a hint of something beneath the surface. The glint in her eyes... the way the corners of her lips twitch ever so slightly... it is almost coy. It is a hint of the girl he knew. She may be buried, but this one smile tells Eric all he needs to know. She is not gone. This damage could be repaired.
"May I think about it?" she asks, checking the empty bottle for his type.
As much as he wants to stay here in this moment forever, he cannot hand over the win before the game has even begun.
"By all means. I shall return tomorrow evening for your answer," he replies in a calm but confident tone.
He forces himself to rise from his chair, looming over his bonded. The electricity between them as his body comes mere inches from hers is enough to ignite a firestorm. He hears her swallow, hiding his own grin. He allows his presence to wash over her for a few agonizing moments, inhaling her scent. She shivers.
"Till tomorrow then," he whispers in the husky voice he knows drives her mad with want.
He watches her eyes close, and with a force of will strong enough to smash down a brick wall, Eric takes advantage of the moment. When she reopens her eyes he is already gone, having taken flight, and leaving her breathless with his departure.
It is 10:22pm.
TBC