A/N: Charlaine Harris owns all of her characters. Evil genius that she is, she has created the Sookieverse for our pleasure.

I guess this was a long time…coming. My bad. I momentarily lost control and entered the Cowboy Up contest. There are many really charming entries for the contest by seriously talented writers. (PM me if you need directions.) If you have time, read a couple for unique takes on our favorite Vampire. We already know Eric is beyond edible in a pair of blue jeans, but the Western-theme writers have taken that basic image to new extremes.

So, you've waited for this chapter. Hmm. You are being set-up for the climax (all senses of this word) so perhaps you'll like this tickler. Yea or Nay? Let me know.

Chapter 11

"Meliel. Enter, cousin. She is safe. You may bring her and the Wolf inside. Hurry before the Others smell you. The two you brought with you will be very enticing to them." A male voice had spoken up, overriding whatever Zosy had been prepared to say. I noticed he was sporting an odd, guttural accent.

Evidently Zostariel didn't like to be contradicted because her voice rose in protest before the male stopped her. "Fool. I read her. Otherwise I would not allow it. The Human is in love with the Wolf. Our males are safe." A gentle murmur swept over the Elvish crowd. I sighed at the thought of a soft, warm bed, snuggled into Eric, both of us aching from our…

'Oh shit!' What did that Elf just say?

EPOV

With effort, I focused in on the conversation between my Demon and her Elf relatives. Were they going to deny us admittance to their dwelling?

'Grrrr-eight.'

Hadn't I read in some Supe pamphlet that there was a pre-set limit to how much shit could rain down on a magical being within a twenty-four hour period? Maybe I could file a complaint and get some compensation. In my case, there definitely was a screw-up somewhere. First, I early shifted into Wolf, then my body exploded in size to fit the Storm God's calling and I impulsively impaled my mate on my near fertility-God enhanced dick, and now I was so damn weak I questioned if I could tear a Kleenex in half.

But the biggest screw-up?

I hung my head in shame. I'd definitely come inside her. Would that suffice to get me banished by my Sire Niall? Oh, yeah, guess I'd forgotten that one in my assessment of the 'raining shit' lineup. Good thing I remembered, I grimaced.

I noticed with some relief that Meliel was pushing back with her extended family, intent on obtaining the safety of the three of us. I gave a mental sigh. Here was a classic example of her pulling my ass out of the fire. Just like she'd been there for me when I'd been stuck in Antarctica, now she was hiding me from the wrath of Niall. Had there ever been a time when my Demon hadn't been there to rescue me when I most needed her? At this rate, I would be so indebted to her I'd eventually have to place myself in perpetual servitude to repay her services. I could imagine my Sire's face when I told him the news… It would almost be worth it to make the offer.

Then I heard it: a casual assessment from the male Elf that the True Human was in love. With me!

I was stunned. In my brief life, less than three-quarters of which had been spent in human form, no one had ever declared love for me. I suspected the Demon felt some form of affection for me, but she'd never said so.

I thought back over the events of the evening, or at least what I could remember. My little blond, curvy, sweet-smelling mate had sent me a strong signal of warmth and desire all night. The scent cues were unmistakable for those emotions. However, I did not detect anything from her which approached love, as the Elf had just voiced. Could he be wrong? Landrel would be much better at reading a Human's emotions; I'd known him from my time before the decades of my exile and didn't doubt his accuracy. But what did I know of the scent cues of love?

Ouch! I'd accidentally shifted around to look at Sookie in my astonishment and now had a scraped ankle to add to my list of aches. I growled, low in my throat. Life as a pretzel surrounded by sharp objects was becoming tiresome. Time for a change, but I couldn't move without risking being painfully stabbed again.

And how could I confirm Landrel's assessment of Sookie? It would move our hasty coupling from the outrageous and demeaning to the natural if she truly loved me. At least, there was a certain logic I was sure I could sort out, given the chance. For now, all I wanted to do was howl with excitement.

Not that I had time to figure it all out. Reminding myself I was a Protector first, pincushion second, I had to guarantee safe accommodation for the remainder of the night for my True Human. Determining whether she loved me or not would have to wait.

"Meliel—the Others?" My voice, scratchy and weak, still signaled my sense of urgency about removing ourselves from our vulnerable position outside of the Elvish walls. I'd do it, but my muscle control sucked at the moment.

She understood and spoke again to her relatives. "My charge requires assistance leaving the car, cousins. Have you any who would help?"

In answer, the steps creaked; the sound of bodies moving in my direction was welcome. I knew tomorrow I would heal completely after the change, but tonight I was not myself. And my wolf-sense was tingling. The Others were moving nearer.

It was past time to retreat to the safety of the Elves' Heim.

SPOV

I watched in fascination and some fear as several tall Elves moved from the darkened porch to where Eric and I waited. If they were suddenly to turn on us, I doubted Pam and Eric could do much to stop them. I swallowed, throat dry as I once again experienced real fear. My protector was racked-up in the back. Maybe I would be called upon to do more tonight than simply survive the evening? I doubted I would be allowed to slip into a bed and call it a night without a few 'show-and-tell' type demonstrations for the relatives, friendly or not.

"Pam?" I questioned as the first of the elves, a tall male with lemon-yellow hair, eyes hidden in shadow, cheekbones pronounced and very pale, opened my door and leaned in to pull me out. The visor light revealed that his skin was a light gray color. How was he expected to 'pass' in everyday downtown Atlanta? Pancake makeup? Spray-tanning?

Perhaps Pam heard the panic in my voice. She spoke from the rear of the vehicle as the tailgate was opened. Her tone wasn't warm, but her words were reassuring. "You and Eric will be brought inside the Heim. You will be safe. Worry not."

Did she say 'hive?' I prayed that I'd misheard.

Afraid to ask for clarification, I could only desperately wish Eric were well. Over the last three days, I'd grown to trust him as I'd never trusted any man. He was the most unusual person I'd ever met, seemingly beset with a bizarre mixture of creatures, talents, experiences, and vulnerabilities. It was his vulnerability that most endeared him to me. Physical attributes were fleeting, I reminded myself, smiling at the remembrance of what we'd been doing earlier.

Oh, yeah. What the hell had really happened to him? Pam's half-ass explanations made no sense. Wrenched back to the present, I struggled not to scream as I was slowly twisted around by the Elf so I faced him. We had a small moment of truth, with him inhaling my fabulous scent that seemed to bring certain Supes to their knees. Ahh, another victim. I was really going to need a spreadsheet soon to keep track. Question: would he be able to control himself? With what appeared to be a great effort, he shook his head and straightened, with me securely locked in his arms. Score one for the Elf.

"I am Grunfrundan." The Elf carrying me introduced himself. I had a moment to think his named sounded familiar, when he whispered I could call him 'Dan.'

Fine. 'Dandy.' All I really cared about was Eric. What was happening to him? I looked over the Elf's shoulder, trying not to make eye contact with Dan. A loud moan signaled my Wolf's location. Two Elves were holding him, carrying him as if he were a long, floppy, heavy sack of grain. And truthfully, he didn't seem to have much control of his body. Jeez, did this mean he was really hurt? My heart constricted at the thought. I'd been thinking of Eric as indestructible. Men generally were, in my experience. It was only women who tended to get hurt, feel pain, and cry over skinned knees or broken hearts, that sort of thing.

"I want to stay with Eric." Wouldn't he need me? I didn't expect Pam would agree, but nothing ventured, et-cetera.

"Sookie, as we know, so not a good idea. Third time's a charm, right? How often do you plan to tempt fate and the Gods in one night? At some point, I intend to sleep and may not be in time to rescue you." She stopped, and her tone softened as she added, "Or be there to separate you from one another. Mated pairs have little grasp of the notion of restraint."

I would have stamped my foot in frustration if I'd been able to reach a floor. Instead I said, "Don't you have a spell or something," (an indrawn breath from those still assembled indicated I may I have said something I should not have mentioned), "that can put us both out? No temptation equals 'no problem' and no rescue required?" I ended on a plaintive note. Even incapacitated, Eric and I belonged together. I knew it. I also knew I didn't wish to examine whether the male Elf's earlier assessment of my feelings for Wolf-boy was correct or not. Or Pam's comment about 'mated pairs.'

Pam frowned at me. "Maybe" was her enigmatic reply. Then she turned and headed inside to the lighted rooms. Dan proceeded to follow her, me still in his arms. The two Elves carrying Eric came last.

I had a few moments to wonder about the inside of an Elvish dwelling before I saw it wasn't a 'hive,' but rather a standard issue farmhouse, full of country quilts, carved wooden animals, and plaid-patterned sofas and recliners. Lots of fat, oddly-shaped candles were the only faintly 'magical' aspect to the slightly shabby décor. It was a major letdown. Where was the otherworldly stuff? No wonder Supes mingled with Humans so freely. Other than a few quirks, who could tell the difference?

While these idiotic thoughts were churning, and I let fly with a yawn that I just couldn't catch, our friend Zosy still had a point to make.

"Well, Elf-cousin, since you are capable of casting spells after all, perhaps you should do so over your charge and the Human? Some of us have jobs to get to in the morning. Let's see what you can do, shall we?"

Immediately, I knew I'd really screwed-up and placed Pam in a bad position. However, I'd underestimated Pam's resourcefulness.

"To Humans, Zostariel, everything about us seems magical, does it not? You know I am half-Demon." Was I imagining it, or was Pam gritting her teeth at the admission? She continued.

"I have no more unique healing powers than any of you possess. She is tired and mistaken. I would like to see them settled for the night. Then, we have matters to discuss. The Others are around; can we not all sense them? We must prepare in the event they decide to...visit. Cousins, is this an acceptable plan?" The hushed murmurs indicated their agreement.

Eric and I were carried to a long hallway that seemed to stretch on forever. I blinked, trying to refocus my eyes. What was I seeing? This was an ordinary farmhouse, right?

After walking a considerable distance, our small entourage stopped before a set of doublewide six-panel doors that swung inward to a room softly lit in a wash of mauve. The smell that drifted out when the doors were opened was sweet, but not flowery. More of a piney fragrance. It was not the harsh air-freshener odor sold in Walmart, but instead reminiscent of the scent of deep woods on a summer evening. I inhaled deeply and felt a stillness creep over me, relaxing my muscles, lowering my eyelids, and soothing my aches. "Eric?" I called, sleepily.

When he didn't answer, I hoped it meant he had fallen asleep again. Curiously, the sound of the footsteps the Elves had made in the extended hallway disappeared when we entered the room. Dan's hips swayed as if he was walking over an uneven surface. Against all reason, I kept my eyes closed as I felt Dan lower me to a soft, yielding bed and slip the peach cloth from around me. My skin bare now, the sheets were a gentle caress. They were made of an unfamiliar velvety material with a faintly grass-like smell. I couldn't identify it and didn't care, especially as the bed moved when Eric was deposited next to me. I wondered if they'd lifted his cloth wrapping as well.

In an effort to find out, I hesitantly extended my arm, which felt as if it were made of lead or some other heavy metal. I found Eric's hand and clasped it, a sense of relief washing over me. "Eric," I breathed, the cares of my world dropping away as I felt myself completely relax, the prelude to a restful dreamless sleep. In answer, he squeezed my hand, and then his breathing evened out as well.

Before I crashed, I head Pam's soft chanting inside my head and wondered what secret spell she was weaving around us that she was hiding from her fellow Elves. Was it an abstinence spell or a knock-out spell? Didn't matter. I didn't even question why she'd changed her mind and placed us together in the same bed. In our exhausted, weakened state, sex seemed completely out-of-the-question. At least, I certainly felt that way, as I was aching in a most uncomfortable region. And then my thoughts turned random and fuzzy.

We slept, uncaring of all around us, safe in an elven bower, my broken love and I.

Amelia, Vampire Assassin

Biting her nails was a nasty habit, for a Vampire. This one was prone to all sorts of bad behaviors and was proud of each and every one. She was a cold-blooded killer, and she enjoyed looking and acting the part. Long and lithe of body, dark hair worn in a sleek, closely-cropped style, she always wore black when she was working. It was her signature color. She'd gladly go to her Final Death before she'd ever wear anything pink.

Tonight, her task was a relatively simple one. She had only to snatch a True Human from a club in downtown Atlanta, and she'd collect a fee of two hundred thousand for the work. Any newborn could pull it off. And she desperately needed the money for her all-consuming addiction.

Amelia sighed. In her long undead existence, she'd learned that being a Vampire assassin was easy compared to satisfying the cruel mistress known to her victims only as 'Fashion.' Over the last fifty years, her life had become nothing more than a wild-eyed blur of guns, designer clothing, blood, four-inch heels, torture, and Louis Vuitton handbags. She definitely needed a change.

But first, she needed to collect that fee. One True Human, coming right up!

However, when she arrived at the club, alone, convinced she would need no assistance to snare the Human that the Witch had located for her, it had been deserted with few clues as to the reason. She could smell that other Vampires had been on site sometime during the night, but they had departed. 'Filthy blood-suckers!' Could they have read, as she had, of the same two hundred 'K' bounty offered on the Supe assassin web site and been equally tempted by the reward?

If so, that meant she would have competition for the bounty. Hmmm, the other Vamps' interest in the snatch made her wonder if there might be more going on than the web site indicated. Maybe she should consider retaining the target Human until she learned more about her worth.

But first, she'd need to find the new location of the girl. For that, she'd incur another fee to the witch to scry for her. The second sum would be as equally outrageous as the first had been. Sigh. There went the Christian Louboutin shoes. She'd absolutely have to succeed at finding Sookie Stackhouse now.

She plucked her precious diamond-encrusted cell from her waist pocket to call Felicia for directions to her latest safe house, and confirm with her the amount of the chokingly large second fee. Gulping at the effect of the economic downturn on the increased monies required to implement a simple snatch and grab, her next call was to the twenty-four hour Supe Savings & Loan to check her balance. The results scared her, reminding her that the account had recently been ravaged by her Neiman-Marcus inspired spending binge.

Wishing she had another option, she made arrangements to move the latest exorbitant sum into the witch's account. If only she still had a rich Daddy to contact for additional funds. Unfortunately, her Papa had been one of the first ones she'd bitten and drained when she'd been turned. Cursing once again her thoughtless actions of her first few years as a thirsty Vampire, she moaned at her inability to plan ahead for situations such as this…

The Others

They were dressed in the traditional red robes of the Warrior class, their hair worn short with a long thin braided tail that ended below the waist. They travelled in groups of three, the divine number. Their weapons were ancient and each held a unique name in the old Gaulish tongue, the pronouncement of which sent a mild shock wave through the intended victims. It and their threat were their most significant means of protection; they were not magical creatures by nature.

No, they were Druids, and this was their land; it had been so since before recorded history in the region. The triscale symbol, the lines coming together in a circle on the front of their breastplates, bespoke of the Druid's desire for balance and harmony. And it was within the domain of the Warriors to ensure that their lands were not diminished by the incessant squabbling of their inferiors, the Supes. Plus, they were never averse to a little roasted Demon, or spitted Werewolf, if the opportunity presented itself. They were omnivores, through-and-through. The scattered Elven dwellings were tolerated only because the taste of Elf was so very bitter. Sort of like the Human's eggplant, without the seeds. Human sacrifice being off the menu for roughly two thousand years had forced the Druids to improvise. They were always hungry.

Tonight, they had been sent on a mission to extract information about events that appeared to be developing in the region. It was understood that they would not be formally granted permission to secure their dinner; they would only be allowed to do so if they could mask their actions. Setting the Supe world aflame with revenge plans for the loss of its members was never the goal of the Druids' hunters. They were not ruled by the International Supernatural Tribunal, but they had no wish to invoke its enmity, either. Their numbers had declined since the rise of the Christian Savior, and their sacred Groves were in constant danger from giant logging conglomerates. It was a difficult time to be a Druid, aside from an unexpected but welcome resurgence in their numbers over the decades following the sixties.

The tallest and strongest Druid, Arar, was the leader of this scouting triad. Liger was his second and Divicus made their party complete. Arar was very fond of the Elves. He had been interested in a green-haired, tall and sharp-tongued female, Zostariel, from the first moment of their meeting. The fact that she had steadfastly rejected his advances only whetted his appetite. Tonight presented the perfect excuse to see her again and press his case.

As they approached the Elven Heim, the scents of the True Human, part-Demon, and the Wolf became overpowering, and Divicus made small pleading noises low in his throat in response. Arar silenced him with a calming hand on his arm, the older, taller Druid more tolerant of the inconsistencies of youth than some. His long snow-bright hair shining in the darkness, eyes gleaming, Arar was feeling extremely pleased this new legitimate opportunity to meet with Z-Ariel, as he had come to think of her. Running without efforts for many miles, the trio came at last to the shielded barrier of the Elves' gravel drive. All three had been shocked too many times to not recognize the feel of the electric current, and they halted as one.

Milling about, they waited politely to be allowed to enter. Dawn would break in a few hours, and all Druids preferred to be back in their Groves before it arrived. The meeting with the Elves would have to be quick, Arar thought with some regret.

Plus, they were still hungry.

The Rat Bastard

Watching the blinking screen, the email summary little more than black squiggles against a white background, the much-feared Head of the International Supernatural Tribunal purred with pleasure. Written in Code, the message was clear to anyone with a Tribunal translator. It had taken a long time, but the decades-long investigation appeared to be conclusive.

Although upon reflection, when everyone involved was undead, three decades was the blink of an eye. This sort of project gave everyone something to do and temporarily kept them out of trouble. It had been a useful diversion for the world of the undead denizens.

Even better, the results were both startling and juicy.

Leostet grinned at the screen again, raising a clenched fist above his head in triumph. Centuries! That was how long that arrogant canid Niall had been polluting the human race with his animal seed. And now he was going to crush his nuts. The e-mail contained compelling evidence that Niall's … 'issue' (he choked back an involuntary snarl of envy) had been responsible for bringing final death to one of the Tribunal's best Vampire scientists. Actually, the Vampire had been on his informal wish list titled 'The Dead Deserving of a Final Death' for some time, but that was immaterial.

He stopped and with pleasure, re-read the three pages of text more carefully. The reasoning in Catalides's e-mail seemed indisputable, even if there was no hard evidence. The mystery surrounding the disappearance of Vampire Leonardo had been an irritant to many of the Vamps. The Vamp himself was not well-loved, but to have a solution to his Final Death elude the best Vampire detectives for decades had been insufferable.

If the accusations against Eric Northman were true, he would make certain the Tribunal showed the adolescent Were no mercy. Any amount of torture would be only a mildly satisfying payback for his Wolf Sire's supercilious attitude towards Vampires in general, him in particular.

The pale blond Vampire smiled, displaying a truly frightening mouthful of pointed teeth. He took a moment to admire his aristocratic reflection in the gilt-framed mirror he kept by his bed. He was magnificent. His gray-green eyes burned brightly as he felt his power pour into his center. It was un sentiment exquis. In an instant, his fingers, long, tapered and sensuous, were working at the buttons on his trousers, freeing his member as he let out a sigh of satisfaction. If only it was Luis stroking his cock, lifting and freeing his balls from the confining cloth. He pushed his six foot frame down deeper into the mattress, and with eyes closed now, he lost himself in the pretense it was his lost lover. His cool palm began to warm in response to the friction. He soon had forgotten all about Niall and his worthless son; twisting onto his hip, with a loud groan his release came in short, jagged bursts that started deep in his groin and surged in long spurts all over his leather trousers. The trousers were ruined, but it had been worth it.

Using the blood-colored silk sheets to clean off, he tried to focus on the punishment he would seek for the Were patriarch's son, but instead let his thoughts drift, reviewing the many lovers he had claimed over his Vampire life. More satisfying than even the contemplation of the virgins he had ruined and the men he had subjugated was the memory of the pack of eight wolves he had killed those many years ago prior to his own turning. As he began to relive his joy in the fierce battle, the vibration of his mobile distracted him from the stirring memories.

"Oui?" Old habits die hard. No point in identifying himself if it was un adversaire.

He listened, his teeth gleaming, canines lengthening as the day's news grew only better. When the caller had finished his report, both parties were pleased, if for different reasons.

The French lion spoke first. "Better bring him in for questioning. It appears he has managed to violate the Prime Directive with a True Human. We know how precious those rare bloodlines are to our kind."

With a grunt, his caller agreed and the phone went silent. He knew his seemingly casual suggestion would be taken as orders to be implemented without delay.

The lion now had only to wait. His old opponent, Niall, would be brought to his knees when his son was presented before the Tribunal for his sentencing and determination of punishment. And the punishment would be fatal if his influence could be brought to bear with the other ruling members. After all, he was the leader of the Supe Tribunal.

Un petit sourire swept across his face. C'est bon.

He closed his eyes again and rested his golden head against the embroidered pillows. He would wait for events to unfold.

EPOV

I awoke, nearly suffocating from the evil scent of the Others. How many of my pack over the centuries had been the victims of the Druids' insatiable appetite for my kind? The brief periods of sleep appeared to have been a restorative, as I was able to sit up and move my legs and arms.

Looking around, I saw that my mate slept beside me, unclothed as I was. We were covered in a deep green layer of long, thin, and shiny waxen leaves, woven to create a velvety smooth blanket. We seemed to be resting on a bed of sweet-smelling moss. I concluded we must be deep within the Elves' Heim, then.

Her gentle snore was so enticing I nearly lost it again. Within inches of taking her warm, soft body in my arms, I growled in frustration and wrapped my empty arms around myself. I wasn't fully healed and would need my strength if I was going to escape this place before the Druid hunting party decided to take over and make a late night snack of me. As a True Were, I didn't fear much, but being spitted and devoured by Druids was on the short list of experiences to avoid.

Unfortunately, I would require blood to sufficiently recover my strength before the coming night's full moon. Although the pull of the lunar tides had already begun to work its magic on me, I wasn't at full power. I would be able to carry Sookie, and run, but fighting would be difficult and shifting was a disaster I didn't need to engage in for a third time.

I shook her gently. "Awaken, mate. We must find our way out of this maze to safety."

She grumbled. Just touching her was so exciting, I was fighting the urge to lie down and snuggle up to her when she opened her eyes in wonder.

"Eric?" she asked as her hand reached out to my chest.

"Yes, love?"

Her eyes grown huge at my salutation, she tried to ask the question I'd been thinking of during my lucid moments. "Are we together?"

"Yes. I wish I could say we were safe, but I fear not. "

"Is it the Rogue Vamps again?"

"No, it is something far worse."

"Then, let's go," she said, too bravely for one whom Ishkur had nearly split in half before my Demon had been able to deter him.

"I'm weakened from all this night's form-shifting, dear one. Can you walk?" I held out little hope she could move, much less walk.

To my astonishment, she stood without apparent effort, looking as surprised as I did.

"I thought I was hurt earlier, but my aches seem to be a no-show now?" It was a question from her to which I had no answer.

Both of us silent, we looked at each other in wonder and a little concern.

"Sookie, come closer. I need to check something."

She leaned into me, and with great restraint, I laid my face against her cheek and tried to sort the scent clues. Something had changed, but what?

I told her that I couldn't discern the difference, but there'd been a change in her sometime during the night's events.

"Is it a good change?" she asked, a note of uncertainty in her voice.

"Don't know. Would you consider offering me some nourishment that would help me heal?" I responded. I needed blood and hers was pure. The power in her blood would help me recover more quickly.

"Anything, Eric. Just don't bite me."

"If I can take it without biting, would you give me some of your blood?"

She hesitated, but then agreed to do so if I thought I could refrain from taking too much.

I nodded, hoping I was telling the truth.

She held her wrist out to me, and using my index fingernail, I made a small cut over her vein.

The first slurp of her blood hit me like a sledgehammer. I was reeling from the pleasure and the surge of power a True Human's blood conveyed, when a sharp aftertaste assaulted my senses.

"But, that's impossible!" I sputtered.

"What's impossible, Eric?" my mate asked, innocence shining from her lovely sky-blue orbs.

A/N: I'm evil. I'm wicked. I'm having so much fun. Oh, yeah.

Don't hate me too much, please? It is all coming together.

And now, some more recommendations. Have you read Ancient Writings by Corbal? What are you waiting for? The Summer Solstice? I don't care from which hemisphere you hail, get on it.

How about Grasping at the Impossible by Sunkisz? Need a vacay break but SVM FF addiction gluing you to the chair in front of your computer screen? This story takes you to South America. No passport required. Significant Other will understand.

I gratefully acknowledge beta reader VampLover1's thoughtful advice and assistance re: all things FF. If you find errors, I must claim them. I'd prefer to lay the blame elsewhere, but I'll be all adult about it. Seriously, she is a dear, and a great writer. Check out her stories for a real treat.

Finally (!) if you enjoyed this single cameo by the French lion and he is not a familiar character, I envy you. Send me a PM and we can discuss his pedigree.

Note: Heim = Home