A/N: Charlaine Harris owns all of her characters. Evil genius that she is, she has created the Sookieverse for our pleasure.
I gratefully acknowledge beta reader VampLover1's thoughtful advice and assistance re: all things FF. When you find errors, I must claim them. Seriously, she is a dear, and a great writer. Check out her stories for a real treat.
We are nearing the end of this story, so it is definitely time for some citrusy-goodness. You've been warned…
Spit the gum into your hand and stick it under your chair, please; this chapter is a really big bite.
Chapter 14
It had been a rather brilliant plan, and involved the heist of a young Werewolf's tee-shirt, a certain Witch, and a beautiful Vamp assassin, all three of whom were clueless about the roles they would play in his elaborate scheme.
Alcide the Vamp had gone Rogue, and it felt so damn good.
Sunday Morning in Decatur
Tall, powerfully built, and dressed in neatly pressed khaki slacks and an open collar plum-colored polo, the presence of Vampire Alcide in the sleepy suburban neighborhood of Decatur was an anomaly. Absently running his hand through his thick brush of dark hair, he had been lurking outside the True Human's duplex for hours and was no longer feeling quite so 'damn good.' His brilliant plan had developed a major glitch.
Where was she?
He sheepishly acknowledged that for a Vampire, with a 'dead-span' of several hundreds of years to fill, he had no legitimate excuse for being so disappointed by recent developments. It was a bitter pill to swallow that neither he nor anyone else involved seemed able to locate or secure the True Human.
Theoretically, he knew he could wait up to a decade for the reappearance of Sookie Stackhouse; his plan could still succeed given her current age. But unfortunately, he was an impatient Vampire, and beyond jaded by his daily bland diet of diluted blood from a bottle. Stackhouse was the lynchpin in his long-running undead scheme to resuscitate the calorie-laden primary Supe food source, True-Human-blood. He grimaced, recalling how he'd been forced to hide his completely normal hunger-based motivations for his plans from the other Vamps working in the ASCPPTH's research facilities.
However, such a major deception had proved to be no stretch for him. He had been gifted with a remarkably nimble and inventive brain; it had served him well in his pre-Vamp existence as Human executioner. Going Vamp hadn't diminished his skills, only improved them ten-fold. This little plot of his was a case in point.
The bleeding hearts who had developed the Prime Directive and its two corollaries were always prattling on about protecting the innocence of the blood bags. Unfortunately, millennia of unrestrained Supe copulation with the Humans had resulted in a painful object lesson in the Law of Unintended Consequences. Supes had failed to grasp how the effects of the 'don't ask; don't tell' practice of hiding their real selves from their bed partners had decimated the ranks of those Humans carrying the bouquet of his favorite meal.
His frustrated musings were interrupted by the sound of a sports car approaching from several blocks away. He listened for a few moments, but knowing la Stackhouse did not own such a vehicle, he continued his aimless pacing and promptly forgot about it.
Instead, Alcide recalled how implementing a forced selective breeding program of the remaining pure blood Humans had developed into his personal undead mission. Some might even call it an (im)moral imperative, considering how few of said Humans remained. And only he had the smarts and the initiative to rectify this gross lack of Supernatural foresight.
And so he had worked diligently to bring about his desired results. He'd trusted only two other Vampire scientists at ASCPPTH, sharing occasional bits and pieces of his scheme until he was certain of their loyalty. Even so, both had only reluctantly agreed with his impassioned logic about the first step being the illegal retrieval of the egg follicles of the latest True Human find, the still free-roaming Sookie Stackhouse.
His Vamp co-conspirators' had compiled several pages of terms and conditions before they would agree to help him with the research phase of his experiment. The fact that he'd had to sign their document in his own blood still made him cranky.
Once begun, they had been most interested in discerning the female's genetic suitability for becoming the unwitting donor. Both Vamps had dived with undisguised relish into the physical data gathered on his True Human, plotting and cataloguing all manner of mundane and useless information.
Since Alcide thought of her only as the temporary repository of his future True Human food source, her suitability was of no consequence to him. In fact, the dumber, the better, when it came to his protein.
So, while they'd been genuinely worrying about responsibly repopulating the rapidly dwindling True Human pool with superior genetic material, he'd been focused on the beauty of the experiment.
Consequently, having finally slaked their data manipulation fetishes and thinking he was home free with the two Vamps, he'd been plenty irritated when they'd switched gears and begun gathering SAT scores, cataloging career achievements, collecting writing samples, checking for Myers-Briggs results, etc.
Sweet Lucifer, maybe he could hack into the local library database to learn which books she'd checked out? He'd offered the comment in jest, but they hadn't picked-up on his sarcasm, instead adding a tick item to their exhaustive meeting summary notes.
However, he cautiously reminded himself, his fellow Vamps had their human roots in more traditional scientific endeavors, so he'd held his temper in check and agreed to everything they requested. Wearing them down had taken far too many months of tedious meetings, but in the end, both Gregor Johann and Ivan Petrovich had eventually signed-on to join his little cabal. It had been one of the happier moments in his Vamp existence.
So far, though, it was just the three of them, which was why he found himself once again doing his own investigative work outside the True Human's rental house, the windows of which were dark and uninviting. Didn't she ever come home? Skank!
He might be an impatient individual, but Alcide wasn't the sort to be easily diverted from his mission. So, while he couldn't gain entrance to her rented duplex without an invitation, after yet another deadly dull night of no results, he'd decided on a new scheme. He would intercept her as she returned home in the early morning hours just as the sun rose. He hoped to catch her unawares after both his Rogue Vamp colleagues and the slutty female Vampire assassin Amelia had failed to capture Miz Stackhouse. Surely the female would eventually return home for a fresh change of clothes and a bath!
He chortled at his own genius. His mile-long, inch-deep knowledge base had finally come in handy for the leg work elements of his operation. He'd devised a few unique means of coping with the pull of the sun forcing him into the ground during the day, including specially-tinted windows on his Hummer, application of 315 SPF sunscreen (his own formula), and being safe at home in his garage-coffin no later than nine in the morning so he didn't fall asleep at the wheel. (He wasn't one of those fortunate Vamps who could fly anywhere he needed to go. Just his luck.)
Stylishly dressed and nails free of dried blood for a change, Alcide was killing time as he amused himself by slipping in and out of the narrow spaces between the Fetterbushes. He'd just stepped back into the safety of the dark hedge conveniently separating her house from her neighbors when a vintage, beautifully restored dark red Ford Cobra with racing stripes pulled up in front of the True Human's house and parked. The driver remained inside the car for several minutes, country-music station blasting Brooks & Dunn's former hit 'Neon Moon.' Intrigued, Alcide quietly waited in the shadows to discover just who was visiting his little future-egg-donor-slash-True Human target.
When the car door swung open, radio silenced, it was to first reveal the long legs of a divine creature who casually set low-heeled, well-worn cowboy boots on the lush lawn before exiting the Cobra's frame. Swaying slightly as if still 'hearing' the country hit, the Human stared fixedly across the dew-laden grass at the front of the darkened duplex. Alcide gulped, his fangs elongating as an unusual scent drifted across the Kentucky blue-grass and assaulted his careful control; he could not recall the last time he'd been so attracted to another being.
This one had shoulder-length curling, disheveled sandy locks, a tight well-rounded ass tucked into fitted sand-washed blue jeans, and bulging muscles that sparkled in the sunlight. Smelling a combination of coconut and olive butter scents, Alcide's eyes swept carefully over the creature's well-defined, tanned arms visible against the sleeveless blue-jean shirt. The body was that of a professional swimmer; the now motionless stance endemic to one of the perpetually pouting. Alcide was captivated. If the Human would just turn around so the Vamp could see if the features matched the rest of the enticing package, or so he could at least get a glimpse of the package…
At that moment, the specimen did just that, the blond's silent cell phone clearly causing him some grief. The beauty of the moment was definitely enhanced by a loud grunt as he chose to both twist his upper body and pitch his instrument as far as possible in an unexpectedly graceful move. It was that delectable sound which nearly resulted in Alcide losing control and bolting from his hiding place. With effort, he restrained the impulse. Waiting a full twenty seconds, he emerged casually from the hedge and walked to the edge of the shaded area afforded by the large Maple at the end of the drive.
Clearing his throat, he asked a question to which he'd already guessed the answer, "Are you Sookie's brother, Jason Stackhouse?"
The photos in the database Alcide had built didn't do this man any favors. It was a small miracle, or perhaps Fate himself, that Alcide had recognized him.
The beautiful stranger, luminous blue eyes still frustrated, looked straight into the bear-like visage of the Vampire and nodded. "Yessir. Any idea how I can find her? Been nearly a year since we were in touch; I've been out working on a rig in the Gulf an' missing my baby sister. You a friend of chers?"
Alcide gave a deep sigh of contentment. What an enchanting accent; it was the perfect complement to the boy's delectable scent. For a blood bag, Jason was damn desirable.
When Alcide unexpectedly found himself answering truthfully by shaking his head, the agitated male launched into a detailed account of his fruitless efforts to make contact with 'the Sook' via cell phone. It was more information than Alcide really needed. But he was too mesmerized to interrupt the torrent of emotion issuing from the well-proportioned figure swaying slightly in his heeled boots just a few feet in front of him, his messy blond curls gleaming in the sunlight.
How was Alcide to lure him into the shade? Raking eyes over him with an appreciation he hadn't felt in centuries, he knew he had to touch him, now!
But how best to proceed? Perhaps he'd try a little glamour first. Boy didn't look like any genius, but who cared? Clearing his throat of what felt like a stone lodged there, he offered in a seductive tone, "I've something very interesting to show you, Jason. Could you come a little closer?"
"Sure thing." And the mouth-watering Human stepped gingerly over the wet grass to stop just inside the shade that sheltered Alcide, who promptly glamoured Jason, catching him as his knees buckled and his eyes closed. Deliberating for all of three seconds, Alcide leaned in to plant several careful kisses on his soft, yielding lips before heading back with his prize to his Hummer. He carefully deposited the unconscious male in the front seat, checking that Jason's seatbelt was securely fastened before slamming the door and heading to the other side of his tank.
As he slid into the driver's seat, Alcide decided he'd keep Jason in his garage-coffin with him during the day. And then, they could get to know one another much better after Alcide awoke for his usual evening activities. Much better.
Alcide had forgotten all about the urgency of finding Sookie Stackhouse now that he had her brother, who in his mind was the real gift, pure blood or not.
Casa Niall's Suburban Buckhead Bunker
If anyone ever asked her for a definition of the term 'waking nightmare,' Sookie was prepared to give her questioner a detailed account of the last few minutes of her conversation with Eric's Sire. Although much of the last few days would also qualify.
She truly felt as if her head might be exploding from all the bad news about Eric and the unwelcome I.S.T. interest in him. And to top it all off, she been without her cell phone for what felt like weeks after leaving it in Eric's Jeep. No phone therapy, no BrickBreaker, no candid photos for going on days now. And just how was she expected to get her hands on a replacement, trapped as she was in this den of Wolves?
The silence in the room brought her back to the grim realities of Eric's situation. Perhaps now would be a good time to pay attention to Niall and forget about her cell phone and other daily grind-type tasks such as returning to Belk's Department Store and salvaging her sales career tomorrow.
She glanced up quickly to find Eric and Niall both staring at her in consternation. They couldn't be reading her thoughts, could they? A Werewolf's superior sense of smell was merely the basis for an interpretation of clues she threw off, not an actual intrusion into her private thoughts. Or so she hoped, realizing she was counting on Eric to have told her the truth several days ago.
"Sookie, do you truly intend to deny my Sire Niall's request to take a small sample of your blood?" Eric's question was a cautious one after Niall's earlier plan to extract 'a sip' of her True-Human blood had unexpectedly sent their introductory conversation into a downward spiral.
"Why is he asking to drain more blood from me?" she whined. Wasn't Eric's so-called all-powerful Sire proving himself to be just another bloodthirsty Werewolf demanding to taste her?
Privately, Sookie was disgusted anew by the Wolves' never-ending requests for 'tastes.' Subtle warning though Eric's cautiously phrased question to her might have been, she wasn't ready to just roll over and play dead for her mate.
"Eric," she begged, "can't you just tell him all about me? Spare me the whole knife-against-my-skin-anticipation agony. After all, you tasted my blood back in the forest, or have you forgotten it, baby?"
A hiss from Eric's papa caused Sookie's head to snap around to face him, her body aligning to ward off…what, exactly? Niall looked properly stunned by her reaction, visibly jerking his body in an effort to maintain his original position. He growled, and Eric gave her a surprised look that Sookie couldn't interpret.
Well, yeah, that growl was a menacing sound; what was Niall plotting? Was he actually trying to threaten her with a shift-into-Werewolf form incident? After what she'd seen, should she find it bizarre that the prospect didn't seem so terrifying any longer? And didn't Werewolves require the darkness and the full Moon to come out and play? Although truth-be-told, Hollywood seemed to have gotten so much wrong over the years.
"Child, Sookie, I have no intention of harming you." The senior Wolf-in-charge's voice had dropped in timber and increased in gruffness. She still didn't fully trust him or his motives.
"Your scent tells me what I need to know about you and Eric. My son knows your feelings for him as well, but there is something unusual about your reactions." He paused and considered her expression carefully. "I promise the knife will only be a little sting. Marring your flesh would be a crime," he finished gallantly.
Eric was looking at her, his intent unmistakable. He expected her to just give in to their demands. Didn't he know anything about her?
But when she opened her mouth to protest, still staring into Eric's electric blue eyes, she inexplicably found herself backing down from her earlier refusal. "Niall, your son took a slurp earlier, so I guess it is okay. You can unwrap the leaf binding; you won't need to make another cut with that knife. I won't have healed so quickly." She offered up a small apologetic smile to let them know she wouldn't continue to object to their primitive testing procedure.
Eric moved gracefully to her side and loosened the leaf he had wrapped around her wrist last night. The leaf should have dried and fallen off from her wrist by now, but it must have been the beneficiary of Elven magic: it was still fresh, supple, and a dark green shade.
However, it was safe to speculate that all three of them were equally astonished as the leaf dropped to the carpeted surface revealing her wrist to be free of any signs of the earlier cut made by Eric.
Niall recovered first. "I knew I did not smell a wound; doesn't this confirm that she is no longer a True Human?" He seemed to be asking the question of the room, but his eyes were fastened upon those of his son.
"I've done nothing, Sire…" Eric began, but was stopped by Niall's raised hand.
"You've done everything, I'd say." Niall responded throatily. "And then some."
Eric dropped to one knee in front of his agitated Papa, head bent in a submissive gesture. Hadn't she read something about submissive wolves urinating in the presence of dominants? Or was that a female dog trait? Shizz, her lack of sleep must have so scrambled her brains that she could no longer recall the exact details from The Hidden Life of Dogs, a gift from Sam Merlotte last Christmas. She'd loved that book, never dreaming it would come in handy some day, if she could only recall the specifics.
For the nth time, she debated the reasons why she could recite word-for-word lengthy passages from several popular novels recently read, but couldn't pull up this sort of useful information when she needed it? Frustrated as usual by the missing information, she suppressed a growl of her own before continuing.
"Stop with the display, Eric." She huffed out her irritation with the Wolf who thought of her as his mate, at least sometimes, or so she hoped.
His head twisted in her direction, searching her face for signs of…well, her feelings. Or perhaps he was just aligning his sensitive nose to better read her scent.
"Hon, next you'll be licking over his lips." She couldn't prevent a small shudder at the unwelcome visual that provoked. "Just cut it out, okay?"
Sookie paused, attempting to regroup her thoughts. "Niall, we've sought your protection." Why was she being so formal today? "If you offer it freely, we accept. If not, I will take your son and leave. And you can forget about tasting my blood if we leave." She paused, adding graciously, "However, you may keep the Vampire assassin, if you wish. She is quite beautiful."
Niall sported the strangest expression on his face; she didn't know what had prompted it. He seemed to be considering her offer before replying.
"By tasting your blood, Sookie, I could confirm that you have been altered. If you are no longer True Human, we have a different set of problems. We must know the challenge if we are to find the correct solution." However, it was his next sentence that convinced Sookie he was being both truthful and sincere.
"I believe you and I share a mutual goal: keeping my son safe from any retribution being visited upon him by our International Supernatural Tribunal. Am I correct?"
While they both awaited a response, Sookie thought back to Pam's comment about how nasty this Tribunal organization was and her immediate resolve to avoid doing anything that might warranty their scrutiny. It frightened her that this shadowy group was now preparing to pass judgment on Eric. She could foresee that he might not make it out of such an investigation unharmed, based on his earlier comments in the pick-up about punishments.
Sookie made a snap decision: it was in favor of her Wolf. Mate or not, he belonged to her.
"Wolf-boy, can we go to your room, like, now? I need to think." As Sookie saw the beginnings of a protest form on Eric's face, she simply held out her hand, and randomly picking a doorway, moved to exit Niall's cavernous entrance hall.
Walking slowly backwards, she watched Eric struggle between his duty to his Papa and Pack Leader, and his desire for his mate. She decided to make it easier for him. "Niall, I'm sorry for flip-flopping earlier. You and I are on the same page; we both want to protect Eric, so you can have your taste-test. But not now, okay? Right now, I want a bath, clean clothes and some downtime." She waited a moment. "Coming, Eric?"
An angry snort issued from Niall, but Sookie couldn't-care-less; she only had eyes for Eric. Would he join her, or would he side with his Papa? She was hoping he'd choose her. If he didn't, maybe they didn't really have a future together.
And that was how Sookie both got her answer and found herself hand-in-hand with Eric, him rushing the two of them down a darkened hallway to what he claimed to be his room in this cool, rather lifeless suburban Buckhead mansion.
In retrospect, Sookie might have noticed she spent an inordinate amount of time scuttling down hallways and finding herself closeted in rooms with Eric prior to becoming intimate with him. After or during which, crazy things often happened to the two of them. But who was she to complain when the rewards were so obvious and impossibly large? Once again, she kept her mouth shut.
Even so, she barely had time to take in her surroundings before he flung open a door to a rather dusty bedroom dominated by a California King. Using just one hand to close and lock the door, the eager Wolf used his other to hold Sookie close, licking up the side of her neck and burying his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply and moaning in an unquestionable display of unbridled hedonistic anticipation. All thoughts of the deferred 'Sookie taste-test' seemed to be forgotten for the moment.
"I like the idea of a bath." Eric murmured in her ear. "How about I carry you? We can lose your clothes in the bathroom. I could bite them off, you know. It's just an old tee-shirt."
Grinning now, she acknowledged that she really loved it when Eric went all primal on her. Yum.
"Wolf-boy, there's no waiting in this line, so you're first. But truth? You look like you should be turning purple all over from the pressure caused by these borrowed shorts of the Elf's. Does your…ummm, butt hurt?"
Eric just gave her a smug grin in acknowledgement and ground his hips into hers.
After that, it was all Sookie could do to concentrate sufficiently to remove his damnably tight shorts. She was ready to rip them off his body in her eagerness but was holding back, fearful an unintended injury might temporarily incapacitate the Wolf's abilities.
"I cannot believe we got this zipper up earlier, hon. What did you use, supernatural Were strength?"
"There was a lot more room in there earlier, if you'll recall." He was moaning in her ear again, but whether it was lust or something else, she was too busy to notice.
Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she was finally able to work her fingers under the waistband. How had the man been able to draw a breath? Partially because Eric was now holding his breath, and partially because she was so close to succeeding, Sookie nearly missed Eric's softly-spoken question.
Stopping briefly, she replayed what she'd heard but hadn't processed. "Sookie, why were you going to deny my Sire a taste of your blood?" At that moment, the zipper finally gave up the ghost, popped, and released with a loud sizzling sound. At least she hoped that was sound of the zipper; could also have been her libido doing the Hallelujah chorus.
Not surprisingly, taking pressing matters into hand, it was several minutes before either of them was interested in hearing an answer.
Needing air, and lots of it, Sookie stepped back and adjusted the tee-shirt she was wearing, which had ridden up over her hips during this latest bout of kissing and shorts demolition. She cleared her throat while attempting to clear her head. "Eric, what did you taste when you told me 'But that's impossible' back in the Elves' Heim?" Always much safer to answer one question with another one.
"If I tell you, you cannot share it with anyone. It may result in my punishment…" Eric's words trailed off as he saw the expression in her eyes. She felt a strong emotion grip her and recognized it as a flare of anger.
"No one may harm you, Wolf. But answer my question, and I will return the favor." Again with the formality? So not her usual style.
Suppressing a giggle, she wondered if she was channeling Linda Blair. No way could she possibly be possessed, cavorting in the Supernatural world though she might be.
Unaware of Sookie's drifting attention, Eric chose that moment to answer her. "I told Niall your blood had changed when he…contacted me on the drive over here. What I did not tell him, as I did not want to risk other members of our pack overhearing, is something unprecedented that doesn't even suggest contamination as we Weres understand it. In fact, I cannot imagine how it could have happened."
Impatient now and holding back a fresh surge of irritation, she blurted, "What exactly changed?"
"You still taste of True Human. But now, you also taste of…well, me?" His voice rose at the end, making the statement more of a question. Whoa, why ask her? She was just a Human who hadn't even believed in the Supernatural world's existence until a few days ago. At least, she always claimed never to believe the tales of Loup Garou, magical Bouki and Malice, and the banshee melusine, to name just a few Granmere had shared with her over the years. Now Sookie seemed to be mated to her very own Loup Garou. It was an unlikely conclusion to the weekend's events, and so guaranteed to lead to some type of disaster, she tried not to think about it too often. Yeah, right.
However, none of that seemed relevant as she settled on what mattered most: the miraculous fact that they were alone together in a room with a bed during daylight hours. A safe room, at that! In her book, that was about as thrill as it got when one had a Werewolf for a boyfriend.
Sookie pulled Wolf-boy back into her embrace. Kissing him deeply, she decidedly wiped from her thoughts the not-so-compelling mystery of how she came to taste like him and the forthcoming near-certain melt-down of his Papa once he discerned the reasons for it.
Instead, she intended to make the best of what might be a very short reprieve from the freaking whirlwind of non-stop adventures since she'd met him. Eric, initially introduced as mild-mannered hair salon owner Irick, had morphed into her Supe Hero Eric. He was both strong and resolute in his protection of her in spite of now being threatened with some sort of unnamed, but undoubtedly horrific disciplinary action. Didn't they deserve an interlude of some real fun in a soft, comfy bed?
Besides, she was so fed-up with the entire pure-blood-versus-contaminated-blood discussion. Why were these Supernatural critters always so obsessed with the subject?
Regardless, she was very ready to enjoy this male beast now rhythmically moving his body against her, his soft groans mingling with the occasional whimper. He was so endearing. And sexy.
It just wasn't fair to compare Eric against her old boyfriend Sam who had never been through the shit she and Eric had been dealt over the last few days. Guys needed recovery time, even she knew that.
Smiling, she stopped pretending, and pushing back gently from his warmth, knelt down and unabashedly ripped apart those damnably tight jean shorts still trapped around his lower thighs. As Sookie could see and feel, the happily crooning Wolf was more than ready to satisfy her every romance-novel-inspired fantasy. The Beast does have his place in this Beauty's world. Particularly if she is small, curvy, blonde, and a Southern belle.
Casa Niall, a.k.a. Werewolf HQ
After Sookie had lured Eric away from their conversation for what Niall was certain would turn into more unauthorized mating activities, Niall was left standing alone in his now-deserted vestibule. Reviewing the recent unfolding of Sookie-related events, he was alternating between seething and snorting at the randomness of it all. Try as he might, he simply couldn't point to any one decision he'd made which was responsible for Eric falling for Sookie Stackhouse, the True Human under Niall's protection.
Not one. It was a puzzle.
Equally mystifying were the reactions of his son's new companion when meeting him over the last half-hour. She was a firecracker; imagine standing up to a senior Werewolf such as himself! He knew galleons worth of Supes who'd hastily do whatever he said without daring to ask any questions, but the fearless True Human hadn't faltered in her defiance. Ms. Stackhouse appeared to be a superior sort of female, he noted with some pride, and she'd fallen hard for his son.
Not that Niall was prepared to share his complimentary analysis of her just yet.
The rumble of a Jeep engine outside the security gates broke into the Pack Leader's thoughts, alerting him that the Demoness Guardian had finally arrived; he'd summoned her so damn long ago he'd nearly forgotten she wasn't nearby as she should have been.
Didn't she know his son was subject to an I.S.T. issued pick-up order? He waited, impatient to hear her report and lame excuses. Was her agreement to a term of two hundred years binding to Eric's service, offered for the satisfaction of her own Demon Sire's debt, worth so little in these modern times?
Niall thought of summoning up her Seventh Circle of Hell Sire and seeking an explanation for the seemingly lax attitudes of the daughter in fulfilling her Guardian duties, but dismissed the idea: the pressing timeline for securing his own son's safety was his first priority.
The Demoness Meliel's entrance was not all that was feminine and sweet; instead, several strong blasts of heated air beat against the heavy mahogany entry doors to his house, increasing in tempo until the pressure finally popped the locks and sent the panels crashing against the walls. She was standing framed against the sunnier exterior, her face lost in shadow, hands on hips. Better than a trumpet, he thought in admiration of her entrance while acknowledging her arrival with a small nod. Now, just what was her human-type alias this time? Oh, right. Pam.
"Meliel, or Pam if you prefer, I see you've abandoned your post by my son's side? Is this how you repay your Sire's debt to me? Does he know of your disdain for following his orders?" Niall's sneer was evident in every word as he waited for her apologies and pleading to begin. Her orange and lavender eyes were flashing neon in the subdued light, indicating her emotional turmoil at the accusations as she stepped further into the house's vestibule where he waited.
He waited for the verbal blast from her that did not come.
The dust motes swirled in the air as the wind slowly settled. Still, her entire demeanor was lightning in a bottle—one touch to that skein of civility that remained, and he suspected she would flash hard; he restrained his displeasure at her silence, knowing he'd be the only animal singed in the exchange. Plus, he'd never cared for loud, booming noises accompanied by blasts of light—they unsettled his Wolf nerves something fierce.
He guessed she knew this weakness about him, too; knew it to be true, in fact, of all Werewolves. Their Achilles heel—they reacted like their lower-form cousins, the dogs, to the sounds of a window-rattling, roof-shifting thunderstorm. And how typical of the Supe world that his own son, Eric, should be subject to the manifestations of the Storm God Ishkur in his third form: the irony of it was certainly not lost on this Wolf.
Slowly now, she began speaking. "Niall, Wolf-to-whom-my-family-is-indebted, I was engaged in dissuading several very hungry Others early this morning from enjoying a little Werewolf tartare with a chaser of True Human." She paused to gauge his reaction, and satisfied by his sharp intake of air, continued in a more conciliatory tone.
"So, now that we have that settled, recall that I am as fond of Eric as you are, if not more so." She had never hesitated to reprimand him in spite of their age differences, veiled though this riposte might be. He thought again that her unfortunate birth circumstances and batting choices prevented what might have been an interesting pairing.
"Pam, this small assignment I've given my son has gone South in a way I would have deemed impossible if I didn't have direct confirmation of the facts. First, he claims to be in love with a True Human he may have contaminated, although I don't understand how it could have happened so quickly. Then I discover he's the target of that Rat Bastard Leostet's far-reaching investigations, thinly disguised as I.S.T. orders, just to settle an old score with me. I also scented the Storm God had made an appearance over at the jazz club where Eric had planned to perform, again in defiance of my orders to him... Except for the fact that it hurts him so much, I'd almost say he deserved that bit of Ishkur punishment for disobeying me…."
Here Pam had the audacity to cut him off. "Niall, he is a fully grown, mature Wolf who has selected a mate. Don't you have some new money-laundering schemes to launch? Something else equally underhanded and illegal? Please, just leave Eric to enjoy his choice; I suspect Sookie will make him very happy."
The blood roaring through his ears was the usual accompaniment to the violent reaction words such as hers evoked. "He's to mate with another True Were female of my choosing and produce more hounds for my line; I won't have…"
She scoffed at him. Scoffed! "Look at your own actions, Niall. Your damnably black Were heart has led you into so many beds, you've lost the ability to recognize interspecies true love when you see it. After you lost Eric's mother Nemia, you were never the same. Don't set up Eric to become nothing more than a pawn in the Were breeding games of your Kind." She'd finished her plea, for that's what it was, in a gentle voice, and now she stopped, her stare daring him to dispute what they both knew to be the truth.
He was silent for several moments before replying, "Well, she won't last long; if Eric wants to have his heart broken, I suppose there is no reason not to allow him sixty years or so of trying to prepare for the pain of her eventual departure from our earthly existence. Then perhaps we can renew the search for a long-lived Were female for him."
Pam now looked at Niall closely, too many thoughts flitting across her half-Demon, half-Elf features for him to follow. His overly-sensitive scent receptors didn't react well to the slightly rotten-egg smell of Demon, so he had refrained from trying to read her emotions earlier. Even now, he waited, letting her take her time to formulate her response.
"I have an odd feeling, Master Wolf, that Sookie Stackhouse may not be exactly what you believe her to be." Pam's grin was pure evil; it was easy enough to see her father's genes in her this morning.
"Yes, I know, Eric has somehow contaminated her…"
Pam again interrupted. "Perhaps it wasn't Eric, exactly, who contaminated her?"
"Who, then?"
"I'll leave it to Eric to educate you about his True Human female. However, I doubt her to be as short-lived as you expect, Niall."
Pausing, Pam cocked her head towards the doorway through which the mismatched pair had departed and again broke out the evil grin. "I'm willing to wait for Eric and Sookie to return to us after they finish up their mating activities in his bedroom. Meanwhile why not tell me about your plans to save your son? There are several Weres gathering out in the Courtyard, as you know. Shall we invite them in so all may know the basic outlines of the scheme? Save us repeating it for everyone."
He'd been so involved in the conversation, he'd missed the faint shuffling sounds of his paws and claws compatriots on the compacted dirt in the Courtyard. Calling to the Pack members now, Niall welcomed his trusted Betas and two visiting Alphas from other Packs to his house, suggesting the group move further into the great room located in the center of the house to take some refreshment. The Wolves could relax and review strategy for any gaping holes that would require plugging.
Demon or not, Pam seemed to understand him. She took his arm and patting it gently, escorted him down the hall, speaking soothing words of encouragement only Niall could hear. Together, they would definitely save his twenty-seventh son.
In a few minutes, it would be time to contact the Weres who should have arrived in Rome by now and collected the Vamp artifacts. They would need his battle souvenirs to begin the spectacular reveal Niall had planned to distract the attention of the I.S.T. Chief Rat Bastard Leostet. Removing the French Vamp would allow his good and reasonable friend Leif to see to the pardon and release of Niall's son Eric.
A Peek inside the I.S.T.
Several decades shy of 1,000 years of age and Sheriff of his own Area 4, Leif was not the sort of Vampire to become easily distracted. He was the most seasoned member of the International Supernatural Tribunal, second-Vamp-in-command, and by most accounts, he was recognized and respected as a reasonable sort of fellow. He'd been irritated countless times over the last few hundred years by the antics of the Tribunal's head, one seventeenth-century Frenchman. The Vampire Leostet was another blond, an irrepressible wild-child, a Libertine even by Vampire-standards, of which there really were none if you thought about it.
Leif felt he was the better-looking specimen, coming as he did from the Viking era, six feet plus of hard-muscled, battle-trained masculinity, bearded and with plaited dark blond locks. He thought happily of the hundreds of skirmishes fought and won, far more in truth than the Tribunal's head could ever fathom. But Leif had been careful to mask his own wilder tastes and proclivities, taking instruction in curbing unruly tendencies over the last six hundred years from his former lover and yearned-for partner, the Vampire Queen S, a lovely Spanish maiden from the 1300's. Unfortunately, her charms and teachings were now lost to him forever by marriage to another. A fucking CPA, at that!, he winced.
As he reflected anew on his loss, a gut-wrenching hurt he had never shared with either the Queen or her newly-turned spouse who looked remarkably like Leif, he dimly recalled that the Were Niall was waiting for a response to his e-mail message from this morning.
The shocking content of that e-mail was the reason Leif found himself staring blankly at the blinking screen, unable to move past the customary salutation line between friends. What did Niall expect of him? Yes, Niall did in fact save him over 900 years ago when he was still a very green Vamp. He silently chuckled at the latest appropriation of the word 'green' by today's environmentally-minded Humans; what next? Different shades of 'red' to designate and define the varying levels of superiority among the inhabitants of the Supe world? It was appropriate—everyone he knew was so damned fixated on blood. The substance seemed to frame every relationship and color everyone's thoughts and words. So tiresome, really.
Now Niall was asking him for a substantial, outrageous favor for one of his Were sons, a dark-haired rather volatile young Wolf by the name of Eric. Seemed Eric had become involved with a rare True Human and there might have been some contamination. Leif unconsciously licked his lips; the very old memory of the fresh, unmarred bouquet of True Human blood pouring into his mouth, soaking his parched throat tissues and lining his aching gut caused an involuntary twitch to one of his sadly neglected extremities. Perhaps a little self-relief was in order?
But Leif felt an uncomfortable twinge at his self-indulgence in daydreaming about his relentless bloodlust just then (after nearly a thousand years, couldn't he just put a sock in it?); he therefore refrained from rubbing one out. What exactly was his old friend Niall requesting from him? What had made him so desperate he was calling in a long-held favor from a Vamp? Interspecies favors were worth much in the World of the Supes and not lightly squandered.
Well, if the True Human female of breeding age was in love with the True Were son, and vice versa, perhaps Leif could find some legal precedent in Supe law for leniency. It would not be to Leif's advantage to head an I.S.T. review of Prime Directive violation accusations in the wild Frenchman's absence, only to be forced into ordering an execution for some other crime committed by Eric the Were, warranted or not. He had no desire to risk angering his one long-term Were friend and ally in Niall.
He opened a second window on the screen to again peruse the documents each I.S.T. member had received from the I.S.T. head yesterday, himself now embroiled in some nonsense over in Romania concerning the outing of Vampires. Didn't the younger Vamp Leostet understand the value of the free publicity? Leif could hit any bar in Memphis, whether Human or Supe, and just by flashing his fangs, attract both males and females immediately ready to strip down and bare their throats or more satisfying veins for his amusement.
He smiled greedily. The recent craze over all things Vampire in the media, especially the young Human pretty boy actors hired to represent his Kind, had made his undead life once again a pleasurable experience. No more hiding in the shadows to find the inebriated and oblivious spilling from 2 AM bar closings, or drinking from rats (a single gulp, more like an appetizer), or visiting the zoos late at night to play with the tigers…
He did rather miss the musky scents of the four-legged, but before his thoughts could travel further in that direction, he was diverted by the ding indicating another new e-mail message. He checked his watch—almost ten in the morning, nearly time for him to retire, and he still hadn't drafted a reply to Niall's inquiry. He would be compelled to bed down for his day-sleep in a few minutes; being an older Vamp, he could get by on much less sleep than the newborns, but it was still a maddening necessity within any twenty-four hour period. He saw the e-mail was from that Rat Bastard Leostet and deleted it without bothering to read it. Fucker.
Before he shut-down the computer, he thought quickly and hammered out a reassuring message to Niall. He'd already resolved to make certain that his friend's son Eric would escape both physically unharmed and mentally intact from the I.S.T. hearing. He'd contact the other members, set up the roundtable session for tomorrow through one of the tech Shifter-gurus always on call, and have the whole thing wrapped up in less than twenty-four hours.
Being Leif, he simply didn't fear Leostet's likely rage, but he did fear the loss of Niall's friendship. For all he knew, Leostet could be staked tomorrow, but Niall seemed to go on, well, forever. 'Never piss off a Were' had been a good motto. Over the centuries, he'd never wavered from that piece of advice Niall had offered to him more than 900 years ago. At the time, Niall had just saved his Viking hide by beating down the flames meant to incinerate Leif and releasing his wrists and ankles from several iron chains. Leif had taken the Were's advice to heart and had followed it to the letter.
He wasn't even the least bit disturbed by what he strongly suspected: wily Niall would be found laughing at the bottom of the pile should the disappearance of the Vampire Leonardo ever be solved. He chuckled again, suddenly pleased at the thought of just how truly displeased the French Vampire Leostet would be when he learned that the much older Leif had made it possible for Eric and his Sire to escape unscathed. But then his thoughts returned to Fifi, and he decided he might pay another visit to the zoo later in the week to say hello and garner a little comfort after this minor storm had dissipated.
He was just so lonely.
Beauty and her Beast (continued)
The deep, resonant voice of the Beast was cultured, a soothing instrument to calm the nerves of the fair-haired Beauty…
"Sookie, if the I.S.T. doesn't release me and dismiss the charges of contamination and violation of the Prime Directive, you may not see me again." Eric had no trouble parading around au naturel after Sookie had destroyed yet another pair of his shorts. But to share his deepest fears with her? That was the sort of thing he had to work hard to overcome his natural reticence around Humans before he could do.
The strong possibility of never seeing her again was a definite mood-dampener, so much so that he had unexpectedly decidedly pushed Sookie away, even as he watched confusion and surprise bloom across her face. Privately, he'd suddenly felt so bleak about his chances he couldn't even bring himself to want to hold her. He stared with regret at the king-sized bed in his seldom-used bedroom; it looked so empty without the two of them in it, snuggled together beneath the blood-red satin spread. But he couldn't drag her down with him; his role was to reassure her while trying to keep her safe.
Beast never left the dark corners of the great Hall; he would not allow Beauty to see him at first, clearly embarrassed by his rough appearance and shaggy mane.
Unwillingly, Eric straightened and then walked away from his eager mate, moving to stand in the far corner of the room in front of a large picture window covered by heavy drapes. He was troubled by the certain knowledge he was leaving her alone and unguarded in his world if the retribution for Vampire Leonardo's death he feared most was meted out to him. The Supes would take her, and most if not all would mistreat her as they sought to use her for their own benefit. Did he dare to seek Niall's word that he would protect her in Eric's absence? Even if his absence stretched into forever?
The feast left for her every day was worthy of a Princess, but she was afraid at first to venture too far from her room. Finally, the burning hunger overcame her fears, and she fell upon the roasted fowl and succulent fruits.
Hoping to break the spell he always felt descend upon him when he was in her presence and to put some distance between them, he refused now to look at her; focusing on his own gnawing hunger instead, he suggested they both needed food before they continued.
Sookie agreed, wondering what Eric was truly thinking. Exasperating beast; why were men always so reluctant to tell you their thoughts? Could it be true that food, sex, sleep, and in later life, regular bowel movements and cholesterol counts, actually constituted the majority of their mental activity?
No way; not a man she knew would hesitate to share that type of information with her if he thought it would earn him an ounce of her sympathy and attention. Silly beasts.
"Sookie, l will take the back stairs to the kitchen and snare some grub for us. Back in a flash, " he blurted.
And then Eric was gone, and she was left to sift through her own thoughts about what he had told her. Could she live if something happened to him? Did she even wish to? Could he read that emotion too, her desire to be with him and only him, from her scent cues? She suspected he could, and had. Was that why he had pulled away from her?
After pacing the room for what seemed like hours without him, she heard Eric's rap on the door and raced to unlock it. He'd returned, his arms laden with bowls, jars, and foil-wrapped shapes resembling turkey breast and a ham. Being Eric, he'd not forgotten the condiments or utensils. The food smelled delicious, and yes, she was starving. Still, while he had an enormous amount of food, she was once again relieved that none of it appeared to be struggling.
When Beast finally revealed himself to Beauty, he stepped slowly from the shadows to stand in full view. He was dressed in old-fashioned garments, the jacket bearing a rich ermine collar. Her Beast's long arms ended in gnarled claws, one of which he kept tucked out of sight. His legs were long and well-formed; his bearing was regal, the shape of his head noble and intelligent with a very kind countenance.
Sitting together on the plush rug in the center of his room, her head now nestled lightly into his shoulder, she chewed on her turkey sandwich with mayo with a gusto unbecoming one carrying a few extra pounds. She grimaced at that thought and the large dollop of mayo that had landed in the center of the tee-shirt borrowed from Dan the Elf what felt like months ago.
Ugh--when had she last had a bath? In his own nod to normalcy, Eric had found and donned a pair of old jeans during his brief sojourn to the kitchen. The unexpected lull in their activities encouraged her to reflect on what she really knew about her distant, but momentarily sated companion; not just the surface qualities but what sort of man he was and might become.
The only member of Eric's family she'd met was Niall, a grand sort of being, Wolf-man or not. Even she could recognize a person of importance in Niall. She vaguely wondered how old he might be.
The son was likely to be made of the same stuff as the father, she figured. He might live a really long time, whereas she would have only a normal life span. Still, when she thought of sharing his bed for however long they might have together, she wanted him. She would awaken every morning to his warm smile and the inevitable question in his eyes. The thought of spending the free hours of every day with him was enticing, there was no question she would take the years and savor them. If he'd let her.
But it was the kindness that shone from his eyes that touched Beauty's young heart.
She spoke first. "Eric, thank you for the food. It was so thoughtful of you." Sookie scooted closer and rubbed the tip of her nose in a soft caress down his cheek. She let her emotions surface, certain the scent of her hormones would tell him everything she wanted him to know.
She was right. The open, smiling face he turned to her had become so dear to her; it was a kind face, a good and welcoming face, reflecting that its Owner was a creature who did not hide behind lies and worthless boasts. She would never have to wonder if he meant what he said. He might not tell her everything, but she believed that he would always share what knowledge he could with her.
"Beast, I have watched as you have taken such good care of me. My sisters were ungrateful wenches. Come to me." Shocked by his own need and fearful of how he would react to her kindness, the Beast murmured his apologies and left her alone in the Great Hall.
But still he hesitated. "Sookie, I would have you with me always, but it isn't fair for me to make such statements. My own future is now uncertain; I'm not confident my Sire can…" He stumbled over the next words. "I don't know if he can get the I.S.T. members to dismiss the charges against me. Technically, I guess I am guilty. You really do know far too much about our Supe world. Pam might be implicated too, or called to give evidence against me." He paused and swallowed before continuing. "I also had to do something a few decades back that, if it were to re-surface, would be certain to earn me a very severe sentence. Possibly of the eternal variety." He turned away again, but she'd caught the sorrow flooding his eyes.
"What was it, Eric? Tell me, please?" How many times had she asked that of him over the last few days? Rarely had it yielded much information, but she had to continue trying.
"It had to be done; Niall demanded it. But I'll pay the price for it."
He stood up then, again turning away from her, and retreated to sink into a deep generously-sized leather armchair pushed against the wall. He was now sitting several feet from the nest they had built up around them on the floor as they'd eaten their purloined feast. Alone and surrounded by the remains of their meal and wrapped in the patterned quilt Eric had pulled from the railing at the end of the bed, Sookie suddenly felt very forlorn.
Finally, Beast approached his Beauty. He knelt carefully before her, closing his eyes, and waited for the touch of her lips against his, hoping the curse would truly be lifted.
"What is it, Eric?" If he wouldn't come to her, she'd go to him; she was a modern girl and didn't believe in waiting for the man to make the first move. Stretching as she stood and still facing him, she dropped the quilt on the floor. After aimlessly pacing around the mess they'd made, she finally marched over to stand silently by the side of his chair; his eyes had hungrily followed each of her movements but now refused to meet her gaze.
Frustrated by his lack of reaction, she bent her knee and shifted her stance until she was able to drop slowly into his lap, the aggressor in this exchange. She straddled him as her eyes remained fixed on his face, willing him to look at her. Her bare ass felt amazing pressed against the soft well-worn jean material; she relished the contact with her Wolf even as she…
Beauty looked kindly into his rough face, scarred from his many battles, and cupped her hand around his chin. Touching her lips to his forehead, she whispered the endearments she felt for the tortured man before her, trapped in the Beast's form.
…wondered what she should do next to comfort Eric. He seemed broken, not like the sexy Beast who had saved her from the vines; or held her tightly, jumping from the roof of a building to escape the Rogue Vamps; or tied up the hungry female Vampire assassin in the back of a pick-up. This Eric was pensive and leery of the uncertain future he faced at the hands of the Supe tribunal.
Couldn't she help him? Seeing Eric suffering, even if only in anticipation of being disciplined, was unbearable. She wasn't sure exactly what he feared might occur during the I.S.T. meeting, but she knew she felt guilty as all hell about it.
For in fact, wasn't she the one responsible for his predicament? She was the True Human in the mix, and he had evidently screwed-up by revealing himself and the Supe world to her.
Not to mention the actual screwing. She'd enjoyed that, but wasn't she still missing a key element? Why was he so worried now? Did it have anything to do with her blood? Frick, she hated the whole sanguine fixation of the various Supes she'd met. All of them appeared to be in the grip of the same mindless obsession—and it wasn't warranted, in her opinion. Maybe she needed to attend the I.S.T. meeting and offer them a little Human-type advice about moving on and taking up new interests. And slowly, a plan began to form; if Pam agreed to assist her with it, she just might succeed.
And then it was time for The Kiss. Would Beauty be pure of heart, did she truly love him? Would the caress of her full lips across his, the tip of her tongue flicking against his mouth as he parted his lips for her, the clutching of his form to her much smaller, slighter figure…would it be enough? Was it possible she loved him?
Right now, she had her mate to console. Not that she was without ideas.
Picking up the hem of her too-short tee-shirt and lifting it over her head to throw it behind her, she prepared to offer comfort and distraction to her Wolf in the time-honored manner between Lovers. And he accepted it, grateful for the beguilement.
His jeans were soon unbuttoned and pulled down over his hips to settle past his knees, as she fell upon him, sliding her tongue over his heated skin, stopping only to nip the private muscled flesh as her fingers hooked around the long silken length of his rapidly hardening penis. Sliding her palm up and over the foreskin, she tenderly split the sensitive slit at the end of each long glide, reveling as Eric jerked from the sensation each time she did so.
Unwilling to wait now, she moistened her lips before slipping them over the blood-red glans, sucking hard just once before releasing him to lightly lick at the moisture dripping from the tip. She savored the delicious now-familiar taste of Eric for a moment, and then took her time as she eased him as far down her throat as she could without choking, her free hand finding its way back up to his sensitive nipple to pinch and pull without mercy.
Entranced by his murmured vocalizations of satisfaction at her repeated actions, she quickly backed off from swallowing his cock, choosing instead to circle her thumb and index finger to massage over the ridged band that girded his engorged penis. Her mate responded eagerly to her loving touches, his hips beginning to lift slightly and reflexively sink back into the leather as he closed his eyes to concentrate more fully on the sensations.
She pleasured him like that for several minutes before abandoning the massage to return to gently sucking on the shiny glans, breaking the suction only to flick her tongue against the sensitive underside. She smiled around the erect length filling her mouth when Eric finally collected himself sufficiently to settle his palms beneath her breasts and began dragging the edge of his nails over her peaked nipples. That small action was enough to trigger the vaginal lubrication he'd need when he entered her; she knew they were so close now.
The additional stimulation began overloading his sensory receptors; Eric's moans of appreciation grew in volume even as he twisted slightly to lessen the suction of her lips on his overly-sensitized cock. Ready for him to take her now, she ceased all movement and straightened her spine as his hands responded to her mute acquiescence, releasing her tits and settling on her hips to position her over the tip of his erection, glistening from both her attentions and his own desire.
The room was still cool; the sun filtering through the narrow gaps in the drapes was the only source of illumination. Staring into his gleaming eyes, painted in multiple shades of wanton need, she allowed him to slowly fill her, thrusting up into her as she remained motionless above him. Only after he was fully sheathed inside her, did she sigh softly and push him back down into the pliable leather cushion.
Instinct taking over, she began rocking back and forth over his body as both of them were instantly drawn into the breathless melding of two sets of parted lips and twining tongues, four hands gliding effortlessly across the surface of the single shape formed by their joining, each unselfishly seeking only the best means of release for the other. To give and to share; these greatest of the World's pleasures passed freely between the two of them.
And in that purest of moments was shared adoration and satisfaction, groaning and gratification, a primal seeking and a joyous acceptance, male unto female. It was a blossoming of all that was natural and good.
And it was…yes, it was enough. And she did love him, for what passed as an eternity.
A/N: Was that what you expected? I hope you enjoyed it.
Happy hugs to GaijinVamp for loaning me Leif from her Queen Sookie FF story. Boy just doesn't get the loving he deserves, IMHO. Just in case I wasn't clear about it, Leif's missed companion Fifi works with the tigers. Viking Leif is an important person in this 'verse.