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

Readers: Yes, I have enjoyed the torture sessions, much as any decent Vampire would who has embraced the dark side, but repentance has its place even in the soul-less among us. I don't intend to practice it; I just pay lip service to the idea.

This extra-long chapter does come with its own built-in lemon.

I gratefully acknowledge beta reader VampLover1's thoughtful advice and assistance re: all things FF. If you find errors, I must claim them. Seriously, she is a dear, and a great writer. Check out her stories for a real treat.

Chapter 12

EPOV

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.

"Your blood is so pure." I'm always truthful, even if I don't answer her question.

She smiles in acknowledgment, her fingers weaving through my hair, grounding me as I adjust to the head rush of her blood on my tongue.

She must sense my anxiety because she asks, "What is it, Eric?"

"Nothing. It is nothing."

"Please...what did you smell or taste? I wish you would just trust me and spill…" Her voice trails off, her expression showing the beginnings of hurt.

Since even a pup could see where this conversation with my mate is headed, I try to answer her.

"Truth? We aren't safe here." It is a truth, if not the most important one.

She nods and takes my hand, her absolute faith in my ability to protect her shining in her eyes. So far, I haven't done such a great job, but I won't dwell on past mistakes.

"Sookie, we must go now. Follow me, step only where I step. Agree that you will never let go of my hand." I force myself to tell her of my intentions when my natural tendency is to withhold information. The sort of stuff I know could get her killed, at best, but in my world, there are far worse outcomes than death. Still, I'm learning to 'share,' since I now have a mate who expects it.

She blinks at me as I bind up her small wrist wound with a large leaf I rip from a nearby plant, but she listens quietly as I continue, her expression serious.

"I'm searching for the scent of the farmland, the smell of electricity, even the sting of gasoline odors from my Explorer. Don't distract me." I hesitate. The Prime Directive has been so deeply ingrained in me that I'm having trouble speaking, but I keep on.

"Dearest, we appear to be surrounded by forest, but all we see around us is magical. Not all magic is sweet and light, and it is oft times much less than benign. We must avoid awakening the magic of the Elves' Heim this night. Do you understand?" I ask her gently, hoping she catches my meaning.

"No, truthfully I don't, but I trust you, and I won't let go."

"Then let us move. Tread quietly. Stay behind me."

Eyes wide, she closes her mouth, and gesturing with her hand, she indicates her readiness to follow me. Stubborn woman that she is, I know she will only withhold her questions until later; I am certain she will not forget them. If we survive the next several hours, I know her well enough to anticipate another grilling.

Lifting my face and searching for the direction of scent flow, I first find a trail that leads back to the entrance to this magical wood. Taking it would only expose my mate to more danger. I know my Demon is in that direction, but I can neither help her nor call upon her for help without alerting the Others. Meliel has shown me countless times that she can protect herself: I must focus on Sookie's safety instead.

Searching, I find another scent trail, very faint, that might be the one I seek. It has a more acrid flavor. I open my mouth for a taste. Yes, it seems promising. Concentrating, wasting time as I sift through hundreds of cues, I can barely detect the man-made odors of paste, and paper, and steel; all are materials commonly used in wall construction. I accept the risk that it may not be an exterior wall. We must move before we are without choices for our escape.

I gather Sookie in my arms and give her cheek a gentle kiss, whispering my intention to find the outside wall. I catch a glimpse of my dark hair trailing over her pale, dewy shoulder, as I smell the intoxicating scent of her Human body crushed against my chest. I almost lose it again, rubbing my chin and nose over the top of her hair.

I look into her eyes, allowing what I am feeling for her to come through, and she blushes.

"Don't let go," I remind her, and she nods once more as I lock my hand over her smaller one.

There is no path for us, just more trees with acres of mossy ground. The woods should be deep, dark and impenetrable, but unlike a real forest, magic is at play here; lighting is plentiful when we need it, and the woods are empty of other life. I've been checking since I awoke, but have been unable to catch the scent of any of my usual prey in the immediate area.

Determined to find a way out that does not include visiting with any more of my Demon's relatives, we set off. I turn us away from the entrance to our bit of woods, away from the direction I anticipate an attack if the Druids come for me. I know Meliel will not give me up easily, but she is only one among many and might be kept too busy by them to have time to warn me.

I had hoped to escape the Woodlands within the Heim without incident. But in line with recent events when it came to my Sookie, we once again found ourselves up against it.

The first hint of an outside threat was the vibration felt beneath our bare feet. It was very faint, and I felt it before Sookie did. It quickly grew in intensity, and I knew it meant that Meliel had been threatened and sought protection in her Demon nature. It had to be a very serious threat for her to reveal her abilities in front of her Elven relatives.

I paused, and finally caught a whiff of what I had been seeking: construction materials. Although the smell had been masked, I judged the source to be a few yards in front of me. But what should have been a wall instead appeared as a faintly shimmering vista of rolling hills, sprinkled with stands of evergreens. At our feet was a large patch of columbine, poppies, peonies, and bluebells, popping up in the sea of moss and white anemone that stretched as far as I could see. I had to close my eyes, step forward with arms outstretched and searching with my hands, locate the barrier I knew to be in front of me. When I felt a smooth surface that could never occur in nature, I was jubilant and let out a laugh of triumph.

That one moment of indiscretion proved to be my undoing.

The vines, previously unnoticed by either of us, began to slide down from the top of the wall I had found. I felt the first one roughly drop on my shoulder, not unlike a rope uncoiling when shaken from a great height. Eyes narrowed in frustration, I knew better than to object. I watched as it tightened around my arm. Sookie still held my other hand, trusting in me to handle this situation. If the second one had not twisted low around my bare waist and knotted behind me, I might have felt her faith was justified. Instead, I recognized that I was truly trussed up and would not be able to escape the vines without a serious fight. I took a deep breath and tried to assess our situation.

The wall had appeared when I recognized it for what it was; the stems of the thick, twisted vines now showed stark green against its matte surface. In fact, as I looked at the area more carefully, I could see that the materials had begun to decay, the edges where the sheets met yellowed and fraying. I realized I could kick or punch out an opening for us; no need to find a door if I could remove the grip of the vine from my upper arm. At least the thing had not chosen to coil around my neck. Instead, it had locked itself around a vein that ran through my arm. The vine knotted low around my hips was more problematic. It was very distracting and too close to certain soft areas to be entirely comfortable.

I motioned to Sookie to remain quiet with a careful movement of my finger to my lips. She slowly blinked in agreement, likely too terrified to move.

Would my Wolf-form save us? I could easily shift; I could feel the pull to do so swimming closer to the surface, ready to break the shell of my usual effortless control. Threatened, the emergence of the Wolf was my first response.

Alternatively, I could invoke the power of the Wolf and use my enhanced jaw strength and canines to gnaw at the vine until it released me. Elven magic would be no match for a True Were. I resolved to begin with some teeth action; I'd save shifting to Wolf for later.

As if reading my thoughts, the vines tightened, and a third one dropped from overhead and moved along the wall in my direction. I decided to attempt to reason with my captors. There were not many good choices when it came to dealing with a large, mobile plant. Some dialogue was surely worth a try. I cleared my throat.

"Allow us to pass. We seek an exit from this Heim, and the other way out is not safe."

Was that a hissing sound? I looked at Sookie to see an expression of disbelief on her lovely face at the vines' response. Their response made sense to me, but I'd forgotten it was her first time in an Elven enclave. She couldn't be expected to know that much of the vegetation was truly sentient in a way Human-bred plants could never achieve. The reminder of her vulnerability to all things Supes strengthened my determination to get us both away from the vines and the larger personal threat, the Druids.

"Let us pass." I spoke more forcefully this time. The vine on my arm moved slightly, releasing me just a little.

Not unexpectedly, the plant's reply formed as a question only I could hear.

"Why?"

Great, I get a plant that wants clarification. I immediately suspected the vine was of the feminine persuasion. Since I had no time to draft a bullet point summary, I said what I truly felt.

"My mate is in danger. I must keep her safe. We need out of this room."

Again, I was the only one hearing the Vine's impertinent question. "Payment?"

If I only had my machete, I thought, thoroughly irritated now. Not unexpectedly, the great interlocutor of the plant world was invoking magical rules; nothing is ever given freely by Supernatural beings. I would have to suggest something quickly, or we might not make it out of the Heim.

"Whatever we have, but we are without clothing, possessions, or jewels. What would you take from us?" I still had my Wolf totem around my neck, but it felt like a piece of my skin, not just a cord and a hunk of magic-infused, man-made metal. I couldn't imagine what the plant would find valuable or worthy of taking from us to allow us passage.

"Prove," came the thoroughly unoriginal vegetative reply.

"What?" I was beyond frustrated with this exchange. What was I to prove? And why was this mere Vine acting so damn bossy?

"Mate."

Was that a verb, or a noun, or a question? We were running out of time, the vibration growing stronger now. At any moment, I expected the doors I could no longer see to fly open, and one or more of the Druids to come looking for me. I spoke without thinking. Never ask a question of a Supe to which you might not like the answer.

"How?" I asked as calmly as I could. Inside, I was cursing the bad luck that had prevented me from getting into those Supe Protector classes on negotiation skills; right now, I really could have used the help. Werewolves were not known for our logical, cold-blooded reactions to threats or other stimuli. Action, that was the usual Werewolf gameplan.

The Vine answered with what I could have sworn sounded like a smirk. "Kiss," she said.

"Kiss?" That was all I had to do? I promised the Gods I'd have Pam make a sacrifice on her backyard grill if a nasty fungus could be visited on the Vine and her sisters in the near future; it was kissing that had caused such a fuck-all lot of problems for me over the last 24 hours.

Choking down my inclination to just start chewing on everything in sight, except Sookie, I decided I had dodged a bullet. At least the Vine had not said 'fuck'; now that would have been a disaster of unfathomable proportion. How often could the Storm God manifest in a single night? I'd never tested the limits and didn't want to try right now.

One small point in my favor was that the romantic nature of the proof requested by the Vine confirmed my earlier assessment of its sex. All knowledge was power, even if I wasn't sure exactly how I'd use this piece. But Ms. Bossy Vine couldn't have known that kissing this Human was nearly as dangerous for my fragile control as the lustier version of proof she might have required. Maybe I could work that to my advantage, if I needed it.

Fuck all! I was suddenly fed up with analysis that led nowhere and was ready to risk my control on some kissing. In the pale light of the Heim's woods, my lovely unclothed mate was so luscious; I had only narrowly earlier overcome the urge to pull her to me and drop us to the ground for some serious screwing. And I knew enough about women to know she would not have protested.

Unfortunately, I wasn't sure if she was interested in me, my Wolf, or just reacting to external stimuli. I knew for a fact that no female in her right mind would be attracted to the Storm God Ishkur, so at least he was off the table. But that wasn't really an answer. If she wouldn't accept me, Eric, for her mate, then there were other pleasures to be had with her.

So while I wasn't sure how she was feeling about me, I'd have to wait for answers; I had a very demanding Vine to satisfy. That twisted loop over the vein in my arm was probably the Plant kingdom's version of a lie-detector test. Odd that I'd never run across one before tonight. What luck to stumble across it just as I'm trying to escape being roasted and eaten by Druids.

A tug by the lower looped Vine reminded me of my duty. Sighing, I launched my campaign.

"Love, the Vine is suggesting we must kiss before it will release me?"

Her silent assent to my query was refreshing and unexpected; me questioning and her silent was an interesting role reversal that boded well for our future. She stepped closer to me, not touching, and inclining her face, eyelids fluttering, parted her lips. I wound my Vine-encumbered arm around her warm waist and felt another, much lower, sexual ache for her that the damn Vine probably felt, too. By Fenrir's ears, I groaned in despair. I fought a strong urge to bury myself in her fragrant flesh and devour her mouth as she wrapped her legs around me, both of us abandoning caution and reason to the demands of our desire. Instead I settled for palming one of her warm generous breasts, my index finger gently circling the pink bud as it peaked for me.

I'd merely grazed her lips when there was a loud crashing sound. The Vine immediately released me, and she and her inquisitive sisters coiled back up into the ceiling area and out of my line of sight. I saw the crack form in the wall surface before the second loud crash allowed a light gray hand and most of an arm to punch through. The appendage belonged to an Elf. But was he friend or foe? Over-stimulated, I wasn't able to discern his intent from the smells before Sookie recognized him and said with awe, "It's Dan."

Now that the wall had been breached, the Elf used a crowbar to remove large sections; with my help, we soon had an opening sufficiently large for the two of us to crawl through to freedom. Sookie's near death-grip on my hand had shifted to my waist during the demo; she now recaptured my fingers and carefully twined hers in mine. I smiled at the touch and all it implied. Then she and the Elf began excitedly exchanging details about the 'rescue.' What? Wasn't I the one who had found the wall and negotiated with the Vines to secure our safe passage? Didn't she understand that I could have been maimed?

"Dan!" Her pleasure was way too sincere for my tastes. "Thank you again for saving us."

The smarmy Elf prick was spreading it on thick now. "Meliel's mother is favorite sister to mine. Our families have a long history. I wanted to help, Sookie."

His smile was shy as he bobbed his head of lemon-yellow hair. Still not meeting my eyes, he looked at the ground outside the faded clapboard walls of the Elves heavily warded standard-issue farmhouse. 'What good were magical wards when the Elves themselves invited the bad guys inside?' I wanted to ask this obvious question of Dan, or shove it down his throat, I wasn't picky about my methods, but the Elf's attention was still focused on Sookie. Grinning, he now pointed out the rough clothing and boots he had brought for us. All good, but I couldn't watch him watching my mate as she dressed without wanting to rip his head off. With effort, I somehow repressed the decapitation urge by reminding myself we needed Dan's assistance, if only for the immediate future.

After we had donned the shorts, tees, and footwear, he explained he was unable to find the keys to my vehicle and wouldn't risk the noise it would make. He had a truck parked further down the driveway outside the magical barrier. He offered it to us for our escape. I was glad then that I had controlled my small spurt of anger. Dan's assistance was proving useful after all.

"How fares my Demon Meliel?" I didn't have the luxury of rescuing her at present, but I would seek news before leaving without her.

The Elf gave me a funny look, but said, "Follow me, and I'll explain. Hurry, please." The sudden need for urgency was thick in his voice; I didn't waste time asking what had changed. Instead, I picked up my mate and followed the Elf, both of us running silently through the fields surrounding the farmhouse. He huffed out the news that my Protector had called Demon, as I'd suspected. She was arguing with the Druids who were trying to gain access to the area we'd just left. The vibrations I'd felt had been her rooting into the earth beneath the farmhouse's floorboards. She drew her power from the demon magic found far below the surface of the natural world. The earth's skin looked solid, but it was actually a door for those who knew how to open it, and she was one who did.

Dan's truck was shiny, new, and equipped as only a young male would choose, with gold-tinged pink and blue flames licking up the sides and sliding towards the rubber-coated rear bed, oversized fog lights, outsize cattle guard, and enormous tires with shiny rims. It was an attention-getter, so we'd have to abandon it quickly. Sookie muttered her thanks, using her free hand to cup his cheek and stroke through his hair. I had to look away or risk revealing my irritation at her unwarranted familiarity with the young besotted male. Finally, we were rid of him and inside the cab with the engine started. I could smell him all over her; I'd have to get her out of his borrowed clothes as quickly as possible. Huh. Maybe I would come back and visit Dan later, if I survived the next few days.

Air conditioning blasting from the vents, I began to relax into the truck's comfortable seat. We were headed back into Atlanta, the City whose surrender had signaled the end of the Human's Civil War twenty-five years before I was born. I could only hope my decision to seek safety with the only Supe truly capable of guaranteeing it to me wouldn't be interpreted by him as my surrender.

I'd defied him tonight, and he knew it. It was within his rights to punish me. But to keep my mate safe, I was going to risk his wrath. Also, I was shy of options; I didn't trust any of the d'Varg's so-called safe houses or businesses from detection by the Rogue Vampires or any others who might use magic to find her. And I knew my own astounding news would be likely only to anger him further. I held no illusions he'd view it as a good thing. Still, something pushed me to find out which way he would jump.

I was going home, although it had never been my home, and I had never been truly welcomed. I would meet with my Sire NIall and ask for his pardon and protection. I'd try to be humble about it. Maybe.

It didn't help that the truck's radio station was tuned to a station playing Nineties alternative rock and local favorites R.E.M's 'It's the End of the World' lyrics began 'That's great. It starts with an earthquake, birds and snakes… Eye of a hurricane…' I could definitely feel 'the furies breathing down my neck.' And I so didn't feel fine.

Niall POV

The distinguished Were was slumped in his leather recliner, his relaxed position belying the alacrity of his thoughts. His house was his most secure bunker, camouflaged as a well-preserved antebellum mansion set in the exclusive northern Atlanta suburb of Buckhead.

The house was surrounded by five acres of woods he made available to favored members of the local Pack during full moons, his property fully protected by a wall ten feet high by fourteen inches thick. His centuries-reinforced upright military bearing was not evident tonight as he sat slumped in thought, his long silvered mane tousled and loosened from its binding; even his clothes were uncharacteristically rumpled and sporting small tears in the knees and elbows. He was seriously concerned about the safety of his twenty-seventh son.

At present he was reviewing various options while awaiting word from the Were trackers on which Elven Heim the Demon had sped to after the near disaster he'd precipitated at Clancy's. He still couldn't credit his own misbegotten role in the night's events. He knew his over-reaction to his son's mating scent had contributed to the manifestation of Ishkur in Eric's form. He also knew that the transformation into the Sumerian God of Storms had hurt. It simply could not be otherwise. The shift would have temporarily weakened his son when he would most need his Supe strength against the Rogue Vamps. Was he unconsciously trying to get Eric killed? The thought worried him.

But what worried him more was the e-mail he had received indicating an open pick-up order was out-on-the street for Eric's blatant violation of the Supe's Prime Directive. The punishment meted out for such a crime, if it could be proven, was never less than severe. On occasion it had even included torture, maiming, and incarceration. None of these was acceptable treatment of the progeny of the leader of ASCPPTH. Not by a long shot.

Of even more concern was the definite possibility that any questioning might turn-up the oddity of Eric's departure from the continent around the same time as the mysterious disappearance of the Vamp scientist Leonardo. Niall wasn't sure if the Vamps on the Tribunal would make the connection, but he couldn't risk it. There was one Vamp in particular who was sufficiently skeptical of coincidences to wonder at the timing. And said Vamp wouldn't hesitate to draw the connection from Eric to Niall. Leostat, aka the Rat Bastard, had been looking for a chink in Niall's armor for longer than he could remember.

And, as the head of the Tribunal, the bastard was not limited to the charge at hand in seeking information. He was well-known for his painful and far-ranging questioning of accused Supes about anything that interested him. He'd gained a lot of useful information and would never walk away from this opportunity to screw Niall.

His best plan for saving Eric, having no doubt that he would have to deliver his son In order to save him, was to create a diversion to divide the IST's attention.

The only difficulty was that he didn't have much time. It had to be a spectacular and timely event that would require the French Lion's presence elsewhere when Eric came before the other members. Niall was certain he could control the outcome with the bastard out of the picture. There was only one other member of the undead contingent on the Tribunal, and he was a reasonable fellow for a Vamp.

Now, what scenario would best serve his purpose? A threat to the Vamp population would be the most effective. A scroll through the Supe assassins' web site might turn up some likely candidates to release a spell or plague. He could read the bios and specialties, and then perhaps a target would come to him. It often worked like that. Calling down mayhem used to be a lot more inconvenient before the advent of the Web.

Today, a client with a problem simply sent an anonymous inquiry with a few details and waited for a response. Then both parties satisfied form by haggling over the fee. When the terms were agreed upon the deed was all but done.

Upon confirmation of the event the happy client wired the fee to the assassin's bank account. It was all very cut-and-dried and so unlike the dark ages or preceding centuries when communication took months, if not years. Punishments were harder to come by as well.

Recalling he'd recently heard a rumor that assassins could also check a related site for available jobs, he wondered if the rumor was true. It made little sense, as the assignments of necessity could not include the cleansing of unwanted members of the Supe community. Why alert the victims and risk a counter-attack on your stronghold or family members before the original hit could be carried out?

More out of boredom than curiosity, he googled a few terms that might pull up the website. He broke the bank when he entered 'Alternatives to Snatch and Grab.' The information he sought was buried under some well-know Supe keywords, one of them being Black and the other being Water.

The second and third items on the list of available assignments triggered an involuntary growl and made the hair on his head hurt as his animal nature roared to life. It was thinly veiled, but reading between the lines, he realized someone in the Supe community had put out a contract on his son and the True Human under his protection.

He'd have to act quickly to pull them both in before real damage was done. He grabbed his mobile as he moved from the recliner to a more comfortable seashell-pink tufted silk lounging sofa. In his head he was assembling the Wolf call he would make to Eric. Since he wasn't taking time to create a subterfuge to prevent eavesdroppers, he knew he was risking other members of the Pack hearing him alert his son to the danger and didn't give a damn. Hell, he'd stand outside and howl if that's what it took to bring Eric to safety in the bunker.

Meanwhile, he was text messaging the Demon and everyone else he could think of who could assemble at his mansion. He'd have to wait for Eric to respond, but he would demand his son leave the Elven Heim and join him in relative safety while he put in motion the idea that had just come to him. With the Tribunal's rat bastard leader out of the picture, he felt certain he could manipulate the IST.

Provided the Storm God Ishkur didn't feel compelled to pay another visit and disrupt his plans.

SPOV

I waited until Eric and I were relatively safe inside the nice Elf Dan's truck and retracing our path down the back roads Pam had taken earlier to reach the Elven Heim. My Wolf owed me some explanations, now that he was awake. Neither of us seemed to be as much injured by the earlier events of the night as we had felt before falling asleep in the Elves' Woodlands.

"Eric?" My voice held the question.

"Yes?"

I snuggled in closer to his body; after the near-sex in his office, and the shared nudity we'd experienced, I felt confident that I could treat his chiseled, muscled chest and arm as mine. I might hesitate about making claim to anything lower at the moment, but I'd see how he reacted to my touch. His thick, dark, curly hair was a total magnet. I gave a small sigh of pleasure as I traced my fingers through it. For now, I'd stay above the waist with my petting.

Please, God, we sure didn't need any more accidental shifting to other forms for the remainder of the night. The clock on the dashboard read 4:30 a.m.; not much night left.

It was a grown-up thought, the first of many. I began happily imagining myself soon learning all sorts of rules for dating a Werewolf. Too bad no manuals existed. I resolved to search the Web for a good site to post whatever tips I picked up. Such a site might have some useful information to share with a first-time Were dater such as me as well.

Smirking, I acknowledged the silliness of the whole idea. (What Supe would post information about their secret world on the Internet?) Instead, I concentrated on not irritating the hot stud who seemed to always want me, good idea or bad, and better yet felt compelled to guard my safety against all threats. It was a deadly combination of prized male qualities; any normal girl would eagerly begin shedding her clothes if asked nicely by the man in question. At least, that was my rationale for earlier events, acknowledging that I'd definitely engaged in world-class shedding and other things. But would he want me again, considering each time we'd tried had inexplicably seemed to lead to disaster? Only one way to find out, Sookie. I dusted off my interrogatory skills and happily began.

"Eric, gotta give you props for the way you handled that scary Vine thing and pulling off our escape back there."

A subtle shifting of his upper body let me know he was sitting up slightly straighter under my praise.

"You liked that, huh?" A smile flitted across his face, a rare expression for the too often oh-so-serious Wolf. Of course, we'd almost gotten killed back there by those horror-movie Vines.

Time to go in for my version of a kill before the buzz was lost.

"Yep. So good. I was really impressed." That should do it. "Umm, who is Ish-something? Pam mentioned him earlier while you were sleeping."

He slumped again, and a small sigh escaped his lips--full, red lips I wanted to suck between my teeth as I watched him expertly handle the truck over the back-country roads. We seemed to be speeding towards Atlanta and away from the emptiness of farm country.

Although I wasn't sure exactly why the countryside was dangerous, I could feel the subtle threat now. The Heim itself had seemed to be a sort of magical fortress somehow contained within the walls of a run-down farmhouse. The Woodlands had been immense; had Eric and I 'gone down the rabbit hole', not realizing we had shrunk and then regained our full size just before Dan appeared?

It was a puzzler, and I just knew Eric would never tell me what had happened. I'd heard from Granmere that Alice in Wonderland was probably just a drug-induced fantasy written by a closet pedophile, and as far as I knew neither Eric nor I had been given any drugs. I'd almost given up on finding a solution when I was struck by a very good idea. I could waste time trying to get answers from Eric, or just maybe Pam could be persuaded to give me a few hints. The best tool in my arsenal was my Belk's employee discount; I seriously doubted she would be able to resist the thought of 40% off the store's sale prices if I offered to take her shopping on the designer level.

Pleased now that I had a plan, I resolved first to throw myself on her mercy as I sought information. 'After all,' I'd tell Pam, 'what could I be expected to know about such magical things?'

My giddiness evaporated as I recalled that, in fact, I was just a Belk's saleswoman, transported for the weekend to Supe-land so Eric could save me from some Rogue Vampires. Come Monday morning, bloodsuckers after me or not, I'd better be back at work selling lipstick and perfume if I wanted to earn my rent money. I wondered if any of it would seem real once I began swiping AmEx cards, bagging purchases, and unloading the new stock into designated drawers. Doubtful, answered the Magic 8-Ball.

Eric gave me a funny look just then. It definitely made me question if he was reading my emotions again. I resolved to be more careful around him.

Wolf-boy hadn't answered my question about the Ish-guy; I couldn't help noticing it had clearly been a mood-deflater, much like a pin prick in a balloon, but I tried once more. "Are you truly not allowed to tell me anything, Eric?"

My hand dropped from his chest and landed on bare skin; the shorts Dan had found for Eric were a little too small, but I liked the way they looked. The concept of 'too much' didn't apply when it came to exposing the sort of thigh muscles Eric possessed.

Without thinking, I began stroking those muscles, the tips of my fingers just teasing the skin under the edge of the frayed and split cut-offs. So enthralled was I by the sensations of sweeping my hand unimpeded over his leg, I'd almost forgotten my question by the time he relented and answered.

"I'm a danger to you, Sookie." When I just looked at him, he removed my hand from his leg with the explanation that he couldn't concentrate if I kept it up.

Hah! Maybe I was the danger here, Eric.

"Go on," I prompted him, liking the 'unable to concentrate' part of the conversation and hoping he'd expand on that theme.

"As much as I can, I've tried to protect you. But tonight, my other form manifested. He's known as Ishkur. Had he fully manifested, my impulsive act…" He stopped and turned briefly to gauge my reaction. When he saw that I was just watching him, he continued.

"When I took you, I risked him…" He ground to a stop. He swallowed. He fidgeted.

I helped. "Eric, I was feeling your…um, stuff dribbling down my leg. I know what happened between us. Didn't you feel it, too?"

Damn, if I was too shy to just say 'jism', what the freak was I doing having sex with him?

He did not turn a happy face to me, as I'd hoped he would. Before he said something I wouldn't like, I interjected.

"It felt so right, though. Like we belonged together. Maybe for more than just this weekend, right?"

Quietly cursing my inability to filter out those brain-dead lines before they hit my mouth and escaped, I could only pray we'd both been magically teleported to the pages of a .99 Romance novel. If not, I was sure my one-sided sentiments would drive him away. With a supreme effort, I refocused on bringing my conversation back to 'just the facts', whatever they were. I'd read in Self that 'factual exchanges' was the preferred form of sharing for guys. I snorted; clearly the author had never met my Werewolf.

But while I was thinking about the differences between the sexes, much to my surprise the Wolf in question began happily humming. Humming? Was that going to be his only reaction to my feeble-brained confession? I recognized it as the same tune he'd been playing on his sax earlier for Pam and me, an event that now seemed like weeks ago.

Joining in, I supplied the lyrics I knew for the bossa nova version of the song that began 'Tall and tanned, and young, and lovely, the girl from Ipanema…"

"Wish I had my sax right now." Eric had turned his head to murmur in my ear. "Sorry about the cancelled performance tonight, although I liked some of the reasons for it." He suddenly began cursing. Oh yeah, his sax, the speakers, the mic stands, and other goodies were still in the back of his SUV, parked in the front drive of the Heim.

I soothed him by reminding him that Pam would eventually leave and would need to take his car. She could return his equipment to him, probably tomorrow morning. He agreed, still disgusted that his favorite instruments would be spending the night alone in the back of his Explorer. Some snarky remarks flashed through my mind about lonely instruments, but I didn't share.

Both of us relatively calm again, I wondered where we were headed. Well, actually, I had a ton of questions, but I'd settle for an answer to just this one.

"Where are we going?"

Instead of answering me, Eric's face contorted as if someone was yelling in his ear. He swerved off the dark country road we were zooming down and just avoided driving into a very deep ditch. That sort of mishap might have had some serious consequences.

Leaving the motor running, he shot out of the car door and stood away from the noise of the vehicle. After a few minutes and still nodding his head even as he grimaced, he climbed back in the seat next to me, and we continued on to Atlanta. I was only guessing at our destination; the Wolf was now sunk in thought and no longer humming.

Shaking himself, a gesture I'd already come to recognize and like, he finally began to talk to me. I would like to have been told what had happened that caused the change, but for now I just listened.

"In answer to your question, Sookie, we are meeting with the head of the d'Vargs. He is the most powerful Werewolf in the Americas, who coincidentally lives right here in Atlanta." He paused. "He also happens to be my Sire." All said without one whit of emotion.

"Have I figured out that 'Sire' is another word for father?" I carefully posed this question, not trusting that Eric's clam-like ways might not make an instant reappearance.

"Yes."

Well, that settled that. Observing the dark expression on his face, the teeth pressed into his lower lip (oh, how I envied those teeth), and the tenseness of his body, I decided to give him a chance to explain at his leisure. No point in pushing. I'd seen enough scrunched male faces when discussing 'daddy' to recognize the signs. Eric had issues.

As the City lights grew brighter, Eric's tension level grew proportionately. I didn't know the source of his anxiety and didn't wish to anger the Wolf by pressing him with questions about his parent. Although in truth, I was excited to meet another member of Eric's immediate family. I was a little short on family members myself, so it was always a thrill to meet the extended family of those I knew. And as a result of our adventures together, I reminded myself, Eric had become much more than a casual acquaintance to me.

"Hon, I guess I'm meeting your Dad, right?"

A shake of the head was the extent of his answer.

"He's not your dad?" Now I was really confused.

Long sigh. "He sired me, Sookie, and there's a difference. He hasn't been around me for me very much. I wouldn't call him a father as you Humans use the term." While I was absorbing this bit of background, Eric had continued. "If I ever have any young, I will be a much better parent." The voice held a note of determination that I wasn't expecting. Oh, shit, now why did the thought of Eric as a father give me such an intense thrill? It was a shiver-inducing idea, and I barely knew him.

"So your relationship is a little strained?" I'd thought about my word choice before trying it.

"Do you recall that I am to protect you?"

I nodded.

"Sleeping with you was a major mistake."

I cringed. Did he not have any idea how much those words hurt? And it had seemed more like screwing than sleeping, but I didn't bother to correct him. If you couldn't really remember much of the events, did it count as sex? Before I could respond, Eric shared some more.

"And I expect there will be deadly serious consequences for it."

His Dad was going to punish him for sleeping with a woman? This father-son relationship was more twisted than even I could have imagined. I said the first thing that came into my head.

"Will I ever see you again after tonight?"

A long silence, unbroken by either of us, seemed to give the lie to our earlier intimacy and his calling me his 'love.' Maybe I was tired, but I felt a deep upwelling of sadness that Eric and I might really be separated by his Dad. And all because of doing something I couldn't even really remember all that well. Weren't we both adults? It so wasn't fair.

I started to pull away from him then and was briefly startled when I heard what sounded like a threat rumble deep in Eric's throat. Surely not?

Shifting hands on the steering wheel, he carefully draped his right arm around my shoulder. "Don't move away from me, Sookie. I can't let this happen this way."

Numb, I agreed to stay close by his side. But what had happened back there on the road?

His breathing quickened, and I knew he was going to turn to me for a kiss. I closed my eyes and tilted my face up to his, ready for it.

Instead, he started talking.

"Sook, I'm going to pull into the next empty parking lot I see for a few minutes. We have less than an hour until dawn. I'm immune from any more form-shifting when the moon's power begins to wane. However when I shift again tomorrow night with the advent of the full moon, it won't be safe for you to be with me for several days. Do you…know what I want?"

First he talks about separation and now he hints at sex? Was he dumping me or not? If so, he'd sure picked a winning strategy. And who'd believe me if I repeated what he seemed to be saying to me: 'Hey, Sookie, I'm a Werewolf for the next four or five days, so I think we need some time apart. But can we fuck first?'

Awesome, Eric. Just perfect.

Voice much softer now that the car's engine was stilled, he wanted to know if I knew what he was asking.

"I'm sorry, Eric," I said primly. "I didn't hear your question."

In answer, he removed his hand from my ass, where it had somehow drifted, and reached behind the truck's seats. Grinning, he first pulled up an enormous sleeping bag and then a large rolled blanket, dropping both on my lap. His change in attitude was infectious, and grinning back, I caught that his teeth were clearly just human-size.

"Lover, this is a deserted parking lot with a lot of tree cover. I solemnly promise you I will not shift again this close to daylight." He paused. "Let me make love to you."

Was it really such a bad idea? Ignoring the deeper feelings I didn't want to examine right now, I rationalized that screwing Eric would be a permissible form of wish fulfillment. After all, I was only taking what I wanted from the Wolf from the first moment I'd seen him at the O'Hara's Mansion club Friday night in his straight guy gear. If I never saw him again after this weekend, at least my curiosity would have been satisfied.

The thought of losing him hurt, but what had I been thinking, planning a future with a guy whose monthly equivalent of a 'period' turned him into a mythical, bloodthirsty beast? Who knew when I might want to leave some silver bullets lying around the house, something he'd be sure to protest. It could never have worked out. And having his little silky-haired puppies was so completely out-of-the question, right?

Besides, if I'd almost slept with a Vampire, how much worse could it be to screw a Werewolf and actually remember the event this time?

Naturally, I didn't share these thoughts. Instead, my response was to lean across his body to open the truck's door, accidentally-on-purpose brushing against the front of his jean cut-offs. I could immediately tell I'd make the wise choice.

"Let's get out," I said. He started to lean back into the car to check the glove compartment. Since I knew what he was seeking, I stopped him.

"Eric, it's too late now for any protection, right?" I hadn't forgotten the feel of his semen dripping down my leg while I was trying to concentrate on whatever it was Pam was telling me.

He grinned. "I hate rubbers," he needlessly told me, yet again. That was one fact I knew for sure about my Supe-lover.

"Yeah, me too." I knew he didn't know that about me, and I was happy to share.

Faster than I would have thought possible, I found myself deposited on top of the sleeping bag in the back of the pick-up, the light blanket rolled over us as Eric hungrily practiced his kissing technique on my lips, and his hands sought to learn the outline of my body beneath my borrowed clothes.

I was past ready to shrug out of them and began to wiggle my arm free from my t-shirt. I wasn't really paying attention to the Wolf who was absorbed in the fun he seemed to be having learning how to pleasure himself with his lips. 'My little Were-gin,' I thought fondly as the phrase from Warhol's Dracula classic I'd seen at Bill's house last weekend came readily to mind. I nearly snorted at the image of Eric as a fourteen-year-old schoolboy in drag. I doubted I could explain the whole sequence to Eric without killing the mood. Although if he wanted to press me up against a wall and tear off my panties, I wouldn't object.

As he moved up for some air, the action pressed his lower body tighter into mine, and this time I let myself moan my desire.

"Am I hurting you, Sookie?" he asked, the anxiety apparent in his tone.

"Not that kind of hurt, Eric." Unbelievably, the earlier internal agony I'd felt from our back office make-out session was gone. It seemed to be a miraculous recovery. I wondered if the spell Pam had been chanting as we fell asleep together in the bower had been another, more powerful spell of healing. Just at the moment, I didn't care about the 'why' of it.

Abandoning kissing for something better, Eric assisted in my earlier fruitless wiggling efforts, finally tugging the t-shirt off my shoulders. Surging forward, he took my breasts as if he'd not seen them less than an hour ago in the Elves' Woodlands. While he sucked, and kneaded, and rolled my nipples, I abandoned him to his activities as I worked on sliding my too-large shorts down my hips. His deep black hair covered most of my chest and hid his face from my view. I only wanted one thing: I soon had the cotton shorts pushed almost past my knees.

Wolf-boy himself was still wearing too many clothes for my taste. I moved to remedy this failure by gripping the collar of his t-shirt and without much effort, tore it in half and ripped it from his body.

Eric stopped working my nipple in his mouth long enough to grunt "Keep going, Lover." I needed no further encouragement. I shoved my palms beneath his cut-offs and finding the seam, I barely yanked the material with both hands and opened a large hole in the seat. It took only a few tugs more to have Eric naked and beginning now to do his own moaning around the flesh filling his mouth.

Echoing his sounds and desperate to feel him grinding against my center, I scooted down to make more satisfying contact with the heavy weight of his cock pressed against my thigh. When he wouldn't move, I lifted his hips above me and pulled him up to position him against my heat. I was so eager to feel his tip slide over my folds and work me into a frenzy that I couldn't wait. I held him with one hand and used the other to grasp the silken length of him, grazing my thumb over the slippery, swollen head.

I admitted it: I wanted his cock to sink into me and for him to ride me like the animal I accepted that he really was. Although until he was ready, I was going to use his dick as my own, stroking it over and over until he relented and took me. At the moment, I was so hungry for him, I would have accepted any condition he offered if he'd just screw me.

I felt that delicious clenching low in my belly; I'd never wanted any man more than my Werewolf. Time he understood how I really felt…

Eric's voice, harsh and low, interrupted these thoughts as I held him immobile above me, one hand supporting his full weight as I stroked him from base to tip. I was definitely reveling in the strength of his thick, smooth, and beautifully veined velvety-soft cock.

"Put me down, Sookie. There's something wrong here."

I didn't want to, and began stroking him faster, twisting my grip up over the tip at the end of each stroke and spreading his juice down and over as my hand retreated.

His breathing became more labored as Eric began to struggle in my embrace while using his hips to push his heated skin more completely into my stroking. He truly had the largest cock I'd ever seen, now that I was looking at it instead of him, dreaming of shoving him over my screaming need and down into me.

"Eric, now, do it now," I wasn't above begging him to take me, although I had already taken him in hand, my grip firm but gentle.

"Let me go, god, and I will. Promise," his voice rumbled from deep in his chest.

Forget that. No way was I releasing either him or his dick. The decision made, I took the tip and moved his swollen head in one long, slow, delicious lick up and down and over my center. He was groaning my name and still trying to twist out of my grip, but I held him firmly above me as I finally fit myself over his erection and shoved forward as hard as I could.

He was mine.

And to prove it, I wanted him buried to the hilt, or I might never be happy again.

I had the stray thought that my not being happy could be bad news for many, and then dismissed it to concentrate on Eric as he surrendered to the sensations and began to move freely above me. As his hips thrust faster and faster until he had to be moving at Supe speed, in one corner of my mind I marveled at my ability to actually hold him above me. Regardless of the strength required to do so, my Wolf had still managed to sink into a crouch so he could fit his groin against mine like a puzzle piece, pushing in as deeply as I'd let him. He was just at the right angle and before I had time to think of anything else, I could feel myself begin to vibrate and rise to meet him, keeping time with the blurring motion of his hips.

"Eric, don't stop, don't ever stop." This time it was an order, not a request.

And with those words, I felt him drive into me once more, and then tense as he had his release. I could just tell it was a very good one, and it lasted an impressive amount of time. The pulsing pushed his seed deep inside me; I liked that idea very much.

And although I had not had my orgasm yet, I contentedly nestled Eric further into the circle of my legs and settled my heels on his back. I'd wait for him to recover, and I'd make him do it again. Maybe several times.

Third time had to be a charm, right?

A/N: Is it E/S/N if one party fails to… ahem, well, you know what I mean? Will she do so during the next round or will she have to fake it? Would it be worth it to fake it for Eric? (Don't worry, we won't be running a poll on this subject here at the SVM fandom anytime soon. Your secret is safe.)

Maybe Eric needs some additional practice. Or maybe there is something different about the Sook. Maybe both, right?

BTW, in the next chapter, the Rogue Vamps finally get some action. No, not that kind of action.

One last goodie. Have you read FarDareisMai2's Kindred? It is her o/s entry for the Mentalward contest in Twiland. The fic is original, intense, beautiful, twisted, lemony, and ultimately fun. You could read it in 20 min and then leave her a nice review, please. I absolutely loved it.

If you would like a character summary-to-date, here goes. I promise to wrap up this story soon.

Eric: A 120 year-old True Were. Parents are True Weres Niall and now deceased Nemia. He has been chosen on the fly by his Sire Niall to protect Sookie. He spent three decades hiding out as a wolf in Antarctica and just recently returned to the U.S. Although he is a talented musician, he has a cover identity (Irick) as a Salon owner and often works as a stylist in one of Niall's many money-laundering businesses. While Eric shifts into his Werewolf form during the full moon, he can also manifest his third form, that of the Storm God Ishkur, an ancient Sumerian God. Eric hates Ishkur, or so he says. Incidentally, Eric's specialty is decapitation, and he has issues with his Sire.

Sookie: A twenty-something Southerner transplanted to Atlanta. She works at Belks, a department store. Sookie is a very rare True Human sought by some Rogue Vampires. They plan to capture her Superstar self for an unauthorized breeding program to produce more True Humans, who may be the only source of antibodies that will save the lives of Supes someday. Kinda vague, huh? I'll do better, I promise. (word of advice: never believe a whiny writer)

Pam: A mixed-blood Supernatural being who won't reveal her age. In her mind, she is mostly Elf, but relies on traits inherited from her Demon father to save Eric. She has a mysterious tattoo on her torso. Pam is paying off her father's debt to Niall by acting as Eric's Protectress and working in his Salon as a colorist. Pam's Supe name is Meliel, an Elf name. Eric thinks of her mostly as his Demon. She doesn't like to acknowledge that she is half-Demon and has issues with her Elf relatives.

Niall d'Varg: A True Werewolf whose age exceeds a millennium by roughly 500 years. He is Sire to Eric. Niall is the acting head of the ASCPPTH, an organization that is focused on preserving True Humans. He is conflicted because he doesn't really believe in his own organization. Niall has a lot of shady businesses, many centered in the Atlanta area.

Minor Characters:

William Compton: A 200 year-old Vamp and a full-fledged Protector. Niall assigned him to keep watch over Sookie when she moved to Atlanta from Shreveport. He disappeared from Sookie's life after six weeks of dating when some rival Vamps sent him to his second death to satisfy a long-forgotten debt. Will 'lived' in Smyrna and owned a Ford dealership. The police are still investigating his mysterious disappearance.

Sam Merlotte: A Shreveport Shapeshifter assigned years ago by Niall to keep watch over Sookie. He fell in love with her and stopped filing reports, so Niall pulled him from the assignment. Sookie's heart was broken when Sam ended their relationship, although he loved her as well. She had expected to marry Sam and didn't realize he was a Supe. Sam's betrayal and the loss of her Granmere were the reasons she left Shreveport for Atlanta. Niall also pulled a few strings to bring her into his area.

Truly Minor Characters:

Amelia: A recent member of the Undead contingent, she's developed a nasty shopping habit. Is a noted Vampire assassin and is trying to find Sookie for the Rogue Vampires who have offered a bounty on her.

Catalides: A Vampire investigator working for the Rat Bastard who sends a three-page summary detailing circumstantial evidence that proves Eric killed Vampire Leonardo.

The Druids: a.k.a. "The Others" Led by the male Arar, his companion hunters are Liger and Divicus, also male. They are always hungry and will happily spit and roast a Werewolf or a Demon. Arar is in love with the female Elf Zostariel, but hasn't yet found the courage to declare himself.

The French Lion/Rat Bastard: Niall's bete noire, 'Leostet' is the head of the International Supernatural Tribunal. He's had it in for Niall for centuries. He has plans to capture, torture, and possibly dispose of Niall's Werewolf son, Eric. He is one sexy Frenchman who has a history of disposing of Wolves.

Felipe: A delish Werewolf who works as a receptionist in Eric's hair salon.

Granmere: Most folks have one, and Sookie is no exception. The lady, now deceased, was a Cajun and by definition must be classified as a True Human, right?

Gunfrundan: a.k.a. 'Dan' A male Elf. He helps Eric and Sookie escape the Elven Heim. His mom and Pam's mom are sisters. Eric may have to hurt him if he doesn't behave around Sookie.

Halliday: Sister to Will, the now truly dead Vampire. She manages the evening shift at Belk's Spa. Like Will, she seems to have disappeared.

Jason: He's older brother to Sookie, but not a True Human. (I know, it's complicated.) Works on oil rigs in the Gulf.

Landrel: A male Elf who can read the emotions of others, including True Humans.

Leonardo: A Vampire scientist Eric tracked and killed on Niall's orders. Leonardo's second death was the reason Eric had to disappear for three decades. The Vamp held the secret to Vamp reproduction techniques with Humans.

Rogue Vampires: I haven't told you anything about them yet…

Trey: A Werewolf musician friend of Eric. They meet him in Clancy's for Jazz, and Sookie learns several Supes are watching over her. Unfortunately, that fact doesn't save her from the attentions of the ancient Sumerian Storm God.

Vane Z: A Werewolf scientist, relative of Niall's, who is working on finding an alternative to the blood of True Humans.

Zostariel: A female Elf-in-charge and a relative to Pam. She doesn't want the Elven Heim (dwelling) to be contaminated by Sookie and the draw of her True Blood to the male Elves.