It's About Power

Chapter 20

Against my will I stand beside my own reflection. It's haunting how I can't seem to find myself again. – Linkin Park, "Crawling"

Let me in, Sookie. I won't let anyone hurt you. Oh sure. Right. Because I trust you to look out for me. I'm doing just fine on my own, okay? I don't need you or anyone to watch my back. I've done pretty well so far, haven't I? I haven't repeated the same patterns. I'm taking care of myself. I accepted responsibility for what I did, what I've done. I don't need any help from you.

I squirmed out of his grip and got up. If I kept sitting there, taking it, eventually I'd let my guard down. I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't give in to the comfort. If I did, if I let him into my heart, I'd be fucked all over again. He'd have control. He'd be under my skin and I'd have to deal with that. I looked down at him, just once, just long enough to tell myself I was right. I walked to my room. I opened the door and shut it behind me.

And then I crumbled like a piece of paper.

There was so much he didn't know, so much I hadn't told him, so much that was sitting on my shoulders like cliffs of granite. If he knew those things, if I told him, he'd take back any offer to help me. He'd know I was sick, that I was a twisted bitch with no sense of morality. I would've thought, once, that vampires didn't care about that sort of thing. But I got the sense that Eric would care. He'd care that I'd let Bill do those things to me, and that, at least some of them, I'd liked. And the things I didn't like? Well, I'd done them anyway! I'd said no to him, what, once? Ever? That had to mean something. It meant that I'd let him do a long list of bad things to me. And I couldn't be close to anyone, holding onto that secret.

The worst part was that I wanted to tell him. I wanted to march right back into that living room and just scream at the top of my lungs. I wanted to keep going and just spit out everything I'd ever let Bill do. I wanted him to…what… forgive me? Tell me I was disgusting? That I was a poor and pathetic excuse for a woman? No. I couldn't. I couldn't even look in the mirror and acknowledge those acts. How could I tell someone else?

Besides, he probably wouldn't even look me in the eye after that. He definitely wouldn't touch me. He wouldn't hold me. He'd take back everything he'd just promised me. It would be nice to hold onto the fantasy for a little while at least.

I slept through most of the day, even though I went to bed around one in the morning. So far, I wasn't doing any of the sight-seeing I had intended to do while in New York. On the other hand, this trip was turning into the world's most seasick-inducing emotional rollercoaster ever. I had a hangover when I woke up, so I shut the curtains and lay on top of the sheets until the maid cart came in. I let her strip the bed and remake it while I took a bath. The warm water and bubbles were soothing on my skin. I felt dry and greasy at the same time, like I hadn't bathed in days. I thought more about Eric. Let him in. Let him into my life and let go of the tight grip on reality. He made it sound so easy, like I could just… do it. Right. What the hell did he know about stuff like that? I mean sure, he was old, but something told me Eric Northman had never been in the sort of relationship I'd had with Bill. He didn't really strike me as the type.

If anything, he was an "on top" sort of guy. That scared me too.

I got out of the tub at last and pulled on the cozy terry cloth robe hanging on the back of the door. I wrapped a towel around my head so it would be dry when it came time to get dressed for the evening. I was walking back into the bedroom when there was a light knock on my door. Since the maid had already been through, I figured it had to be Eric.

"Come in," I called. The door opened. He nodded to me, gave me a little smile, eyed the way my robe covered up most of me but still showed off my figure. Well, he was clearly a man. He certainly had his priorities straightened out.

"We're attending a cocktail party in a few hours, Sookie. If you brought a little black dress, now is the time to pull it out. Can you be ready at seven?"

"Sure," I nodded. I'd only brought one decent dress for cocktail hour, but it was short and black.

Okay, so I'd expected him to say something else. Maybe why I'd gotten up randomly and pushed him off of me last night? How about if I'd thought about what he said? But no, there was nothing else. I sighed and turned on the radio. Ironically, an old Linkin Park some came oozing out of the speakers like some freaky omen. I stared at the radio for a full minute before I flicked it off. What the fuck? Was I in the Twilight Zone now and the radio was talking to me?

I dug into my closet and pulled out the designer dress I'd bought for just such an occasion. I'd picked it up on sale at the mall before the trip, and I had only tried it on the one time. It was a black sheath dress that draped across the neck. The seams were ruched a little, leaving crinkles in the light-weight jersey fabric just underneath the breast line and around the hips. It was short too, falling a few inches above my knees. I pulled a black satin strapless bra out of my drawer and a pair of seamless panties to match. I said a little prayer of thanks to myself for remembering to pack more than one pair of pantyhose.

I shimmied into the underwear and the dress and the pantyhose, then slipped my feet into a pair of high-heeled sandals with intertwined straps. The heels added about three inches to my stature, just enough to make me look taller without making me tip over or complain about my aching arches. I stared at my hair in the mirror. Should I leave it down or put it up. I gathered my hair up and held it behind my head. I turned to the left and then the right, trying to make a decision. Finally, I decided to leave it down. I was brushing it out when Eric knocked gently on the door.

"I'm almost ready," I said. He opened the door a bit and stuck his head in. All I could see of him was his handsome face, his hair pulled back into that intricate braid I'd admired before. He looked dashing.

"You look beautiful," he remarked with a smirking sort of smile.

"Oh," I blushed. "Thank you."

For the party, we had to leave the hotel and head down the street to the Plaza Hotel on Fifth Avenue. The Plaza was probably the most famous hotel in New York, but I heard from Eric that they didn't offer vampire-friendly accommodations. I imagined there were a lot of wealthy vampires out in the world, and probably a good deal of them lived in or visited New York, so it seemed pretty silly to me not to have vampire rooms. On the other hand, I hadn't known such a thing existed until I'd arrived at the Mandarin Oriental.

The cocktail party was hosted in the Champagne Bar, an ornate room with booth tables, a well-stocked bar, appetizers for the collection of human guests, expensive blood selections for vampires, and standing room for brief meetings. I took a glass of champagne and some cheese and crackers from the buffet table. Eric led me into the room where he joined a small group of vampires in conversation. I stood off to the side, munching on my cracker. Though there were humans around, and more coming, they seemed to be companions of vampires. Most of them were women, but I saw a few men mixed in. I let down the barrier of my thoughts to feel them out. Just about everyone in the room that I could read was thinking about sex. No surprise there, I guess.

I turned around and looked at the splayed doors of the entrance, watching as more guests came in. Our party, for which the bar had been reserved, filled up the room. Some groups took their conversations into the dimly lit booths that lined the walls, and a few others sat down at the bar to converse with the attractive male bartender. Most of them, though, stood and talked as Eric did. They all looked ridiculously casual, even in business suits and little black dresses. You'd never know, at least not at first, that you were in a room full of dead people that drink blood.

I caught a new strain of thought and turned around in a circle until I caught sight of the woman thinking. She was considering sex too, but she was thinking more about how she could please the vampire she was with, less about how he could please her. She was an attractive young woman with dark brown hair and almond-shaped brown eyes. Her lips were full and pouty, and they reminded me of those sketches of the Disney character, Pocahontas. Her little black dress was an off the shoulder number that emphasized her medium-sized breasts. The gown clung to her small figure and made her look positively beautiful.

I noticed she was clinging to the forearm of a vampire, a man taller than her but not too much taller. I swerved a little to get a better look at him, darting my eyes around Eric's front to peek between him and one of his associates. His brown hair fell over his forehead, clean and smooth, and his long sideburns were clipped neatly. His skin was pale, almost gray in tone, and I could tell that the glass of blood in his hands was the first thing he'd eaten in a few days. He had a day's worth of stubble on his sunken cheeks and strong chin. His pale lips were half-parted in mid-speech. He turned slowly toward me and I saw the slits of his blue eyes. They seemed to glow when he caught sight of me.

I shrank backward and ran into a vampire passing behind me. Eric snatched me out of his way and pulled me closer to him. He was turning back to his conversation when, I guess, he saw the look on my face. I didn't have a mirror, but I could tell you I was terrified and that can't be hidden well. I was already squirming out of Eric's loose grip on my wrist, backing away again. Bill had excused himself from whatever conversation he was having, and he was walking toward us, the woman on his arm skipping to keep up with his long strides. He was grinning, not in an evil way, but like he'd just run into old friends. It was creepier than if he'd been leering at me from a corner.

As soon as he stopped in front of Eric, I lost the will to move. I was stuck in glue, trapped in cement, impaled to the fucking ground. I couldn't move if I wanted to, and damned if I didn't want to run and never look back. Eric dropped my arm and it fell, flaccid, against my side. I was paralyzed with fear, anger, and distress. My heart was beating a mile a minute and I expected every single vamp in the room to stare at me like I'd just rung the dinner bell.

"Eric," Bill nodded. "Good to see you. I trust you're doing well." He never looked at Eric, but right at me. I tried not to quiver visibly.

"Sookie, how are you doing? It's been too long." He spoke as if we'd just been neighbors, maybe friends in the sack. I held my breath and tried not to cry. You're in control, Sookie. Don't let him in. I squeezed my fists until my knuckles went white. I was sure I'd broken the skin.

"So, how long have you been seeing Eric?" Bill asked. His face turned cold, but he continued to speak as if nothing were wrong. Okay. Enough. I'd had enough of that. Right there. Done with it.

"You don't get to talk to me," I said. I kept my voice slow and steady, as steady as I could manage. I was on the brink of so many things: crying like a stuck pig, screaming, kicking him in the balls, ripping out his throat, fainting, running from the room. I couldn't pick a decision so I just stood there and talked. I could remain calm. I could be dignified.

"You don't get to speak in my direction. You don't get to make assumptions. Guess what, Bill Compton? I haven't been with anyone since we broke up. I haven't slept with anyone. I haven't kissed anyone. I haven't said more than hello to Sam in almost two fucking years! I should never have let you into my life. I should never have let you…let you…" I faltered. I'd already fucked up. I'd already given him ammunition. He already knew more than I wanted him to know.

I swung, with every single ounce of strength. I threw up my fist and I swung as hard as I could. But you can't hit a vampire, no matter how fast you are, if he doesn't want to be hit. Bill grabbed my arm and twisted. I dropped to my knees and yelped, it hurt so bad. I was staring up at him, trembling, his hand still on my forearm, when the strangest thing happened. Eric stuck out his hand and thrust it around Bill's neck. He squeezed, and Bill's whole head went white.

"Drop her," Eric grunted, his voice oozing viciousness. His teeth were extended and his eyes were dark as coal. Bill let go of my arm. I tucked it against myself and got to my feet. I looked between the two men, and watched as Eric set Bill back down on the ground. He loosened his grip and finally let go.

I was losing it. I was losing whatever careful grip I had on my own reality. The tears were coming and I couldn't let Bill win. I couldn't let him see me cry. So I bolted. I walked from the room as steadily as I could. I still had the champagne glass in my hand and I didn't even realize it. I stood in the middle of the reception area and looked in every direction. I didn't have enough cash for a taxi and I knew they wouldn't take credit cards. I couldn't stop the tears now, and I couldn't stop shaking. The glass fell out of my fingers and smashed on the floor, splashing my leg with champagne. There were people staring at me now, broken glass around my feet and watery mascara lines on my face. I was falling apart right in front of their eyes and I couldn't make it stop.

I was living out my biggest fear, right now, right here in the fucking Plaza Hotel.

Eric came charging out of the bar. He scooped me up against his chest and walked with me out of the hotel. No one stopped us. No one said, hey you, you left broken glass on the floor. No one asked what was wrong or if I needed help. I didn't have to talk to a single soul. I curled against Eric's chest in the cab. He kept me on his lap and sheltered me. The sweet look on his face wasn't there. He wore a mask of anger, but I wasn't scared. I didn't have any room left in me to be scared of Eric. I was already scared of Bill, and of myself. I was scared of that moment in the middle of the reception area at the fucking Plaza Hotel. What else was there to be scared of, anyway? Nothing was worse that breaking down like a basket case in public.

He carried me up in the elevator. He shoved open the suite door and brought me into my bedroom. He arranged me on top of the creamy beige bedspread. I don't know what I was trying to prove, or what I was trying to accomplish. I just wanted to be okay. I wanted to show Bill I wasn't affected by him. I wanted to show myself that I was strong. I kneeled on the bed in my short black dress and I flung my arms around Eric's shoulders. I pulled him down and kissed him. It was the first kiss I'd had with anyone but Bill. Eric's mouth opened and I felt his tongue on mine. His lips were cool but warmer than Bill's. I didn't belabor the point. I kissed him harder. I felt his arms around my waist. I moved to unbutton his shirt. My arm was sore where Bill had grabbed me but I ignored the pain. I even ignored the trembling of my hands. I avoided everything until Eric pulled away.

"You don't have to prove yourself to me," he murmured. He looked down into my eyes and carefully pushed my hands away. I glanced down and I knew he was already well on his way to an erection. The rejection, or what felt like rejection to me, stung like a hundred angry yellow jackets.

I couldn't hold it together. I couldn't face my ex-boyfriend and cry in the middle of the most famous hotel in New York and be rejected by a very attractive thousand year old Viking all in the space of an hour. I just couldn't handle it. I ran from the room and into the bathroom. I turned on the shower and let the water run cold. I kicked off my shoes and threw myself under the stream, still clothed, still in my makeup, still in my damn pantyhose. I sank to the tiled floor and cried.