A/N: Thank you, friends, for reading, reviewing, and enduring the cliffhanger last chapter, which I know was unusual (you can consider this something like Blood Bonding Part II, if you like). As you know, my interest lies in character development/interiority, not plot, but I'm learning that in order for characters to progress, sometimes something external has to happen… ;)

Chapter 11

It was an odd sensation: running blindly. I knew objectively that I was terrified—I had to be terrified, or why else was I running?—but it didn't stop me from having a dozen other calm, incongruous thoughts that pelted me at the same time. Oh, there's a branch. A few dozen feet flash by. Don't trip over that root. Hit a tree trunk, slip, and crash into the soft mud. Was it raining earlier? Scramble to my feet. What time is it? Running again.

The farther I got from Eric, the less poisoned I felt, and the less scattered and self-protective my thoughts became. It didn't seem like a relief, though; the acidic red was leaving my body only to be replaced by heavy blackness. What had I just seen? What had I just left?

After a minute or two, I realized how idiotic my reaction was. Running from a vampire? Impossible. Yet there I was, my two feet carrying me a greater distance than should have been imaginable given the circumstance. The only conceivable reason for it was that Eric was letting me. If he was letting me run, then he must have been himself on some level. And if I knew he was himself, I shouldn't be running. At the same time, I couldn't get over the visceral reaction I had to his ruthless, devastating feelings. How could I possibly stay inside of that? Or worse, on the other side of it?

Suddenly, I felt something grip my shoulders from behind, impossibly strong and fast. The word prey flashed white-hot through my mind. If that was really all I amounted to, I still intended to fight. I shrieked as loudly as I could manage.

A hand clamped over my mouth, silencing me in total. I reached up violently to claw it away, attempting to bite the arm locked around me. My actions might not have had any efficacy, but it felt good to focus on one small part of the massive problem. Whoever was behind me grunted more in frustration than exertion, and easily spun me around.

I was stunned to find myself looking into Pam's face. Immediately all fight drained from my body, and a weird sort of panic replaced it. If Pam was trying to help me, I knew we were in trouble. "We need to go," she stated flatly, with none of her usual humor. I nodded in mute agreement, and we took off.

She rushed us out of the woods (was she carrying me? pushing me? I couldn't tell, though we were moving far faster than I had managed before) and into my car. Pam took the wheel, which I didn't even have the wherewithal to question, and sped us quickly away.

"Wh—what was that back there?" I asked when I finally found my voice.

"Witches," she said, again with very little intonation. While my mind hummed with several questions, I couldn't bring myself to ask any. "They're dead," she assured me. Her demeanor was calm, but I couldn't help noticing how frequently she checked the rear-view mirror.

"Then who are we running from?" I asked, though I was pretty sure I knew the answer. Pam did not respond directly.

"Eric called me. To get you out." I had a feeling she didn't mean on the phone. Her answer consoled me slightly, though it probably shouldn't have, given the situation. It was a small comfort to think that even inside of an endangering rage, Eric was thinking of my safety.

Pam pulled into my driveway. Instead of dropping me off and speeding away, she got out of the car and walked to the door with me. I wasn't sure what her intentions/orders were, or how good a bodyguard she would be if Eric or anyone else show up, but I was glad for the company.

"Would you like to come in?" She rolled her eyes at the question, which I took as a good sign.

"'Like' doesn't quite cover it, but sure." Pam followed me inside. Without asking, I walked to the kitchen to heat water for tea and a TruBlood in the microwave. She meandered around the downstairs appraisingly; I was thankful the house was clean. Since she was company, I served us out of Gran's good teacups, and we sat at the kitchen table, drinking in silence.

It seemed Pam had relaxed a little, so I figured we were out of immediate danger. My curiosity began to win out over panic.

"So…that was unexpected," I started. She didn't laugh, but a faint twinkle in her eye made her seem almost friendly. "What were you doing out there?" The glimmer died as quickly as it had appeared.

"Business," she replied coolly.

"Well, I didn't assume it was pleasure," I tossed back. "I meant something more along the lines of what are witches doing in Bon Temps? And what do they want with a vampire sheriff? And why the hell would you go to the woods in the middle of the night for a meeting? Isn't that what Fangtasia is for?"

Pam sized me up, wondering if I might back down without needing an answer. I returned her gaze. She sipped her TruBlood.

"I don't know," she eventually answered. Something about the quiet manner in which she said it made me believe her.

"So you weren't there from the beginning." She shook her head.

"Eric had some meetings, and then he took off a little later. I was managing." She shrugged. "It's pretty standard. Especially recently," she added with a deliberate glance in my direction. I pretended not to understand the implication. "I didn't hear anything until he called me to come get you."

"So you got there after I did." She nodded. "How do you know they were witches, then?"

Pam looked at me as if I was stupid. "I inferred it. Last meeting of the night: Rai Anderson, Shreveport Coven, 11:00pm. Besides, those hippies always smell like salt and sage—I can sense witches a mile away." Pam eyed me curiously. "Which brings up another very good question—what were you doing there, Sookie? It's not like Eric takes his dates on ride-alongs."

"I wasn't planning on it," I answered defensively. "I was driving home when I…felt him." Just saying the words evoked a strong rush of fear. Pam inhaled sharply, sensing my adrenaline spike. "By the way, is—is that common?"

"Which part?"

"Eric's…feelings."

"Why? What did you get?" she asked, her eyes hard and penetrating. I was suddenly embarrassed. Talking about it seemed like a betrayal of sorts, even with Pam.

"Just… I don't know. It's hard to describe. Like crippling bloodlust or something." She paused, staring at me with no expression. She finally spoke.

"You were able to feel that?"

"Yes."

"After one blood bond?"

"I guess." She remained quiet for so long, I finally added, "They were unbelievably powerful. Overwhelming."

"That's not good." I wasn't sure what Pam was referring to, so I stayed silent. After a long while, and what I assumed was some careful deliberation, she continued. "Eric is usually very…controlled. Very deliberate about what he lets through the bond."

It was a small statement, but it sent me spinning. All my earlier concerns about Eric's ability to dampen my reception rushed back in confirmation. My head swam. What did that mean? Not just for tonight, but our entire relationship? I snapped out of my reflection as Pam continued.

"I'm guessing…it was some kind of frenzy spell," she finished thoughtfully. That was unexpected.

"A frenzy spell? You mean, like something that would make Eric uninhibited? Make him more likely to attack?" She nodded. "But that doesn't make sense. Why would witches want to provoke an enraged vampire? That would be suicide." Pam looked at me pointedly.

"That's what I'm worried about."

"You mean someone set them up?"

"Maybe. Or someone set up Eric…" My chest clenched.

"Who would want to do that?"

Pam snorted.

"You really want a breakdown? Maybe a power-hungry vampire trying to discredit him by making it seem like he doesn't have self-control. Maybe an assassination attempt on one of the witches that could be blamed on Eric. Maybe just dumbasses using the wrong spell—who knows." The gravity of the situation began to sink in. Pam could tell her words upset me.

"One thing's for sure," she began, softening a little, "he clearly cares about you." The twinkle in her eye returned. "If he really was under a frenzy spell and managed not to drink his part-fairy girlfriend dry… Well, it might not be the vampire equivalent of a diamond ring, but it's pretty far up the fuckin' list."

I blushed. She said it to be kind, I knew, but I hoped there was a little truth in it.

"You should sleep. I've heard humans usually feel better in the morning." I gave her a halfhearted smile.

"Thanks, Pam." She started out of the door, but turned back.

"I think you should be safe now, but if anything happens—you know—inside your house…" I knew what she was referring to, though I didn't want to admit it aloud. I gave her a curt nod. She shrugged a little apologetically before speeding into the night.

The moment Pam left, my thoughts turned to Eric. I was ashamed to admit to myself that they weren't about his safety. I wasn't speculating about the witches, or possible set-up plots, or even what I had just witnessed him do. I was completely, perhaps selfishly, focused on what all of this meant for the two of us.

So Eric could control his side of the bond. That wasn't a shock. I had suspected as much. In fact, it even touched me a little. He knew I was uncomfortable losing my inability to hear him, so in a way his restriction was a courtesy. But it also meant he could keep things from me. Big things. Like his shockingly powerful bloodlust. If it was true that the witches had simply decreased Eric's control, it suggested he really did feel those destructive things for me, and maybe all the time. A paralyzing chill ran down my spine. The word inevitable echoed through my mind, and not in hopeful reassurance.

The night wore on. I sat alone at the kitchen table for hours, lost in thought. The wall clock chimed 3am, and I was beginning to think about shuffling to bed when I realized I wasn't alone.

Eric was at the front door.

He had come to my house on purpose, I was fairly certain, as a sign of good faith. As Pam had suggested, it would allow me to uninvite him if I had to, which showed consideration for me even as it challenged me to accept him.

I wasn't sure what to do exactly. My heart leapt in relief to see him at the same time it plunged in cold dread. New feelings that belonged to him rushed into my chest: assurance, relief, affection. I now knew this was at least partly intentional on his part; though not exactly lies, his feelings annoyed more than calmed me.

Since I felt no trace of the earlier violent onslaught, I warily opened the door.

The moment he was inside, I backed away defensively, arms folded across my chest. I was not ready to let my guard down. We gazed at each other in silence for a few moments, squared off in the entryway. Eric stood totally still; he did nothing to make himself look less threatening. He was massive, a towering column spattered with blood, his eyes watchful and proud. In that moment, he was both gorgeous and terrifying. I was stunned to think I had ever seen him any other way.

"You deserve an explanation," he finally said. "Maybe multiple explanations."

"You're right," I responded. "One at a time."

"Which would you like first?"

"Whichever one involves your real feelings for me." Eric ran a hand through his hair, and sucked in a long breath. My heartbeat quickened. Despite everything, he awakened my desire. The realization made me angry, as did the knowledge that I couldn't keep it from him.

"Pam told you about the spell, so you know what you felt wasn't…created." My stomach churned. Though I was anticipating this, the confirmation hurt. Eric continued, unapologetic and clear, "You told me before that you wanted everything, Sookie, but you didn't know what that meant when you said it." He waited a beat before continuing. "I am willing to show you. Now."

I looked at him in challenge. "Do it."

Eric's eyes blazed at me. There was a pause of utter stillness before the floodgates burst.

The torrent of Eric's feelings sucked me under like a riptide. Some of them were recognizable from before, though no less debilitating. Toxic, dark, murderous necessity tore through me. My lower body felt like it was alive and thinking for itself. I craved sex with a magnitude I didn't know was possible, felt starved in a depraved, irrational way that couldn't be reasoned with, couldn't be governed. Hot saliva pooled in my mouth, and my teeth pulsed and ached and throbbed.

But some of the feelings were different. Inside of the wild impulse for blood, my chest pounded with a fierceness that shocked me. I felt a ferocious desire to protect, to safeguard, to shelter that did not fit into my other savage needs. My heart howled, as if at war with other parts of my body. Stranger still, in the background, I felt something so gentle I hadn't been able to discern it before—a tender and warm impulse that confused me, that made me question the possibility of all the feelings existing together. Yet it was undeniably there, as vibrant as the rest of them. I didn't have the strength to comprehend it. The conflicting desires crushed me even as they cracked me open.

And then none of them were distinguishable from each other: they joined into one, huge overloading cacophony that roared at me and swallowed me whole.

As quickly as he had thrown it open, Eric shut down the connection, surrounding me with complete, disorienting silence. I sobbed aloud, gasping repeatedly for air. I could barely get a hold of myself. Through the whole extended moment, Eric remained motionless, the picture of control.

I stood staring at him for a long, long while. When my mind finally cleared a little, I noticed my own image reflected back at me in his eyes: fists clenched, face flushed, eyes black and predatory.

"What do you want now?" he asked quietly.

Seized with a sense of possession I thought myself incapable of having, I sprinted toward him and launched myself into his arms.