Eric's Demons
Chapter Twenty-two
Olaf was staring at something behind Eric. As the viking turned to see four figures approaching from the back of the house, two more joined those who were holding Pam. Sookie stifled a squeal as she saw what Eric saw. They were in the house.
Both Olaf and Ulrich stepped closer to their companions, swords drawn. Fresh blood from the hunters still soaked their clothes. Eric wanted to ask what had occurred, but there was no time.
From behind them Sookie saw the intruders approach along the age worn wooden floor, passing the portraits and period furnishings that lined the grand hallway. Three of the men were the classic beautiful men she had come to recognize as Nephilim, but the fourth was a tall thin and rather plain looking academic. It was at that moment she realized that she hadn't felt their approach.
Oh shit, she thought. In her head she started trying to open doors, but it was as if they were bolted shut. Something was very wrong here.
Like a spaghetti western the two sides faced each other. Pam's captors were trying to stare down the blood soaked warriors while she stood defiant between them. Eric defied the quartet inside the house to come closer. In the center Sookie was still struggling to unleash the wild power she had used so freely and effectively in the battle at the steel mill.
"Will it come to this, then?" Eric asked the academic.
"Your witch appears confused," the tallest of the Nephilim told him.
"You know what shes capable of, why have you come back?" Eric wanted to know.
From the corner of his eye Eric glanced at Sookie, saw the terror on her face. Now he knew that something was wrong too.
"She looks a little unsure," the Nephilim mocked.
"How did you find us?" Eric asked. He watched Ivan with interest, as if seeing the academic he had locked in the basement for the first time.
"Bill Compton was very helpful when we took him from the bar. He's probably dead now," the beautiful man boasted.
"And Pam, why is she here?" Eric asked.
"She was on her way to warn you about Bill, we thought it better that she travel with us. Never know what kind of lunatics one can encounter out here at night."
When the Nephilim spoke again it was directly to Sookie.
"Struggling little one? You should have known to stay out of matters that didn't concern you. You are out of your depth child, pity you won't live long enough to learn not to meddle."
"What have you done to me?" she demanded, hoping they hadn't heard the tremor of fear in her voice.
"Your arrogant bastard boyfriend invited a stranger into your house, a vampire hunter called Ivan Elsing," he turned to look at Eric. "Ivan Elsing the vampire hunter. You are an arrogant fool Northman, you thought you were so clever!"
Taking a closer look at the tall academic Eric suddenly saw what he had missed before. He felt rage with himself now that he had been duped so easily. When he had captured the visitor it had all been a game to him.
"You're faery, but you don't smell or even taste of faery," he accused Ivan.
"I'm a blocker," Ivan told him. "Normal rules don't apply around me. Still don't believe you fell for the vampire hunter story though."
"A blocker? So Sookie can't use her powers? Do your masters know that they can't use theirs either?" Eric looked at the taller Nephilim, the one who had done all the talking. The flicker of doubt that he saw there was gone in a heartbeat, but he had definitely seen it.
"Not my masters, they asked for help from my Faerie lord, and he gave it freely. My people want to see one of your races win this once and for all. It would appear that I'm just evening up the sides. Sookie can't hurt them, and they can't jump. Makes the game interesting, don't you think?"
Eric tipped back his head and laughed.
"And so it ends here," he said.
Around Ivan the Nephilim looked less sure of themselves. He stepped back from them, laughing. No-one here could dare to harm him, for fear of giving advantage to the enemy. Safe for now at least he stepped back to watch the scene play out.
Outside Pam braced herself when she saw the two big warriors were preparing to charge her captors. Sookie stepped back from Eric when she felt him tense, preparing to spring at the intruders. That he was unarmed and they had swords seemed not to bother him.
He was Eric Northman, enemies had fled his wrath for a thousand years, he had slaughtered friends to get at enemies, he had known no mercy. He would show none now.
Pam lifted her booted foot, planted the sharp heel firmly on the foot of the beautiful man beside her, then threw herself flat as the warriors charged. She gambled that they would reach her before the Nephilim could kill her.
Eric howled a blood curdling battle cry as he rushed the intruders, with vampire speed he was on them, in the middle of them. A sword swipe cut him across the chest, but still he came. Like a force of nature that only death could stop he was on them.
Sookie locked eyes with the blocker called Ivan, attempting to engage him with her mind. At first he looked back impassively at her, certain that she couldn't hurt him. Then her eyes turned pure black, as she found a door the faery hadn't closed. He looked back at her in disbelief, then engaged her in a psychic battle to control her powers.
Ulrich found that these opponents weren't as easy killed as the horde they had battled at the steel mill. They were the captains and commanders of the Nephilim, the ones who had first taught warfare to mankind thousands of years before. His grin spread as the shower of massive blows he rained on his foe were turned with ease. Now here was a fight worth dying in.
Beside him Olaf found a lucky opening, blade catching the man hurt by Pam across the forearm. He pressed his advantage, swinging the sword in a flash of steel that was parried by the Nephilim. Olaf used his size and weight advantage over the creature to force it back, using his feet to kick him off balance. The Nephilim backed into another who had come to his aid and for a second lost his balance. In that second Olaf took his head off neatly, a fountain of bright crimson blood erupting from the neck as the body fell. The Nephilim behind his fallen opponent rushed forward.
Ulrich had two of them on him. He was quicker than them, but they rained such a furious barrage of blows at him that he was hard pressed to turn them away, let alone counter attack.
Turning the sword that cut him across the chest Eric grabbed his attacker by the wrist and with a twist snapped the bone, took the sword from the nerveless hand. He was forced to use it at once to parry a blow from the taller attacker, before lashing out with his feet to take the third in the groin. As the now unarmed man tried to back away Eric ran him through.
Both remaining opponents circled him more warily, then came at him at once, raining savage blow after savage blow down on his borrowed blade. When he failed to completely turn one of the vicious swipes his enemies blade whistled across his ribs, drawing blood.
Enraged he pressed a counter attack of his own, vampire speed making him a savage bladed whirlwind. A parry went wrong for one of his opponents, and Eric gutted him with a back cut. Now it was one on one.
Olaf's newest opponent was a blade master. Try as he might the big warrior could not break his guard, he put everything he had into every attack, but the blows were turned with ease. No matter how hard Olaf attacked, what trick he employed always that blade was there to parry. He knew he was outclassed, but still he pressed forward with everything he had.
But then the counter attack came. Olaf met the barrage with his own blade, felt the massive power behind each blow numb his wrists and elbows. He cast a glance to Ulrich, saw that his companion was as hard pressed as he. Then he missed a parry, felt the attacker's blade slide along his, over his guard and into the flesh of his hand, nearly severing it. As the blade dropped to the ground Olaf knew he was finished, but he rushed one last time at the Nephilim empty handed, trying to put the man off balance. Seeing the desperate lunge coming the Nephilim twisted to one side, then drove the blade into Olaf's side. With a twist he yanked it free, severing the warrior's spine. Forgotten as he fell, Olaf made his way to Valhalla.
Eric stepped back from his final opponent, blade held forward, and took a breath before the attacks came again. His mind was clear and composed, his arm dancing the forms he had learned when he studied with the sword masters in Spain. For a moment he allowed the other fighter to lead the attack, a whirlwind of parry and riposte. Behind him he heard Olaf fall, his friend and companion of so many campaigns. Still calm he increased his speed, raining a flurry of light but still deadly attacks on the beautiful man, until the tip of his blade caught the man in the face, taking out an eye. As he howled and put his free hand up to cover the damaged socket Eric leaped forward again, pressing the advantage and stabbing the howling man through the throat. Gurgling and frothing the opponent dropped as Eric left him and went to Ulrich's aid.
Three expert swordsmen surrounded Ulrich. If it was just a matter of skill he knew they were sure to kill him, but what he lacked in skill he more than made up for in sheer savage brutality. Ulrich bit deep into his own tongue, tasting his blood in his mouth before the savage berserker rage took hold of him.
All three came at him together, determined to end this. Ulrich lifted his blade in a high and savage arc that broke one of the attacker's swords and severed both of the arms holding it. Both of his attackers landed blows on him, making savage cuts on his back and leg as he ran the third through. Immersed in the red mist Ulrich didn't feel the cuts that would have killed a lesser man, without thought for defending himself he rushed the second swordsman, aware of but not really feeling the blade that was now buried in his chest. Still he came on, throwing himself further onto the blade as he lunged at the beautiful man, slashing down across his neck, Ulrich's own sword only stopped when it cut into the man's pelvis.
The wound in his chest killed him, but his last thought was for Eric, at least he had evened the odds for his friend.
An ethereal mist formed around Sookie as she sought to find a way in to Ivan's mind. His face was wrinkled in concentration as he tried to turn the psychic attack. He had never been engaged like this before, and he didn't like it. Ivan was afraid.
With everything he had he tried to suppress her powers. Lunging forward he pounced on Sookie, knocking her flat with a powerful blow that split her lip. He began to rain a barrage of blows on the little woman on the ground.
Eric saw Sookie fall, but he was engaged by the last, and most skilled of the Nephilim. Already the swordsman had blooded him twice, he could feel his own back and leg soaked in his own blood. As yet he had failed to break the man's guard. He upped the speed and savageness of his attack, aware that he was losing a lot of blood and would be starting to weaken. But nothing he did could get through the Nephilim's guard.
In the hall behind him Eric could see Sookie, on the ground as the faery he knew as Ivan rained a merciless attack on the helpless girl. She was so small and helpless, and her attacker so large and strong.
From the ground, forgotten by the fighters, Pam swept out her legs, caught Eric's opponent and tripped him. Eric never gave the fighter a chance, diving in to disembowel him before he could recover. The last Nephilim opponent collapsed in a pool of his own blood and intestines, a look of surprise on his face.
Pam raced Eric to reach Sookie. Standing over her Ivan had handed her a terrible punishment. Her face was a mess of bruises and cuts, her mouth was bleeding freely. He stood away as the vampires rushed him, but if he expected mercy from them he would find none.
"Stop!"
Sookie was still conscious. She tried weakly to get to her feet, but the battering she had taken was too severe. Shakily she settled for propping herself up on her elbow.
Eric and Pam had backed Ivan away from her. He held up his hands palms out, as if to fend off their attack.
"But Sookie," Eric protested.
"He's fucking mine!" Sookie spat, this time managing to get to her feet.
"Look you can't touch me, any of you," Ivan told them.
"I'm not going to touch you," Sookie told him.
Her eyes were still pure black, some of her teeth were broken, and Sookie was having trouble breathing because of the ribs he had broken. But she stood firm and straight, looking the blocker in the face.
"This isn't for your betrayal, this is for attacking a woman!" she spat at him.
He laughed at her, "You have no power."
Ivan felt his scalp twitch. It was a sensation that became pain, spreading down through his body until it reached his hands, then his feet. He started to scream, but still the pain intensified, he felt as if his limbs were on fire. With a flourish of her bruised and bloody hand Sookie ripped his skeleton out of his body. Ivan saw in slow motion what she had done to him, before collapsing.
"Only a real spineless bastard beats on a girl!" Sookie told him.