From the Waist Down
Chapter 3
"Just…you just stay over there," I fumbled at Victor. I fell backwards as the door opened, and I was only stopped by a loud smacking sound when my backside hit Eric's big wooden desk. That was definitely going to leave a painful bruise, but if I could find a way out of here, I didn't care so much about the straight line pounded into my ass muscles.
"Or what?" Victor chuckled, knitting his eyebrows together in his amusement. He looked beyond me at the door exiting Eric's office into the parking lot. With a movement I barely noticed, he grabbed one of Eric's heavy bookcases from the wall and slid it in front of the door. It opened outward, that I knew, but unless you were a vampire, you weren't getting past it. Last time I checked, I was still just a person, a weak, pathetic, very-trapped-right-now person.
"Bill Compton!" I yelped so suddenly that I surprised even myself. "He's been charged with my protection while Eric is away. He'll come for me." I felt a bad taste on my tongue when I remembered what Eric had said. Bill was always watching me. He loved me. He wouldn't let anything happen to me.
"No one is coming for you, Sookie. No one knows where you are. Besides," Victor sank toward me. His hand cupped my cheek in what might have been considered a sweet way, if he weren't a cold-blooded murderer. "You belong to me now."
"I absolutely do not!" I screeched. Shock mixed with my overwhelming inner self-preservation and hardcore independent streak. I didn't belong to anyone, not even Eric. I was no man's property, regardless of that man's status in my life. And I most certainly did not belong to a cretin like Victor Madden.
"When this night is over, Miss Stackhouse, you'll beg to be mine. You'll beg for it."
I lurched backward, sliding up onto Eric's desk in a desperate attempt to get away. Maybe I could find a weapon in his desk drawer. Maybe he had some matches or a sharp stick or a gun. Okay, I know guns can't hurt vampires that much, but it would be enough of a distraction to buy me some time. I yanked at the top drawer to find pens, a small black velvet box, and a notebook. If it had been any other moment in time, I would have opened the little box and peeked inside. But right now, it was a projectile. I grabbed it, and about five ballpoint pens, and chucked them at Victor's head before yanking open another drawer. There was nothing in it.
"Enough of this," Victor growled. I looked up. He'd caught everything I'd thrown at him. Of course he had. He was a damn vampire and I was not the champion softball pitcher that Tara had been in middle school. I didn't have quarterback experience like Jason. I'd been the oddball, the weirdo. Now I was, apparently, every vampire's dream date. They were all coming to collect at the same time.
Victor strode around the desk and grabbed me by the arm. He lifted me up off the floor and tossed me across the room. I fell back against the opposite wall, my body sinking into the sofa cushions of Eric's dark green couch. I moved to get up, my shoulders hurting, but Victor was on top of me in less than a second. His mouth found mine a second time, and his snake-like tongue writhed against mine for a full minute. I swore and snorted, tearing at his suit jacket, his hair, his skin. Nothing deterred the man. If anything, it seemed to spur him on.
Oh God, Eric. Eric, help me!
But no one came. No one burst through either of the doors on opposite sides of the small room. There were no sounds other than Victor's muted growl and the rapid thumping of my heart beating against the walls of my chest. A hundred scenarios went screaming through my brain as Victor's hands descended the length of my torso. His mouth pulled, at last, from my face. I squirmed under him, struggling to find leverage but there was none. His tongue lapped at the pale skin of my cheek. I could feel a streak of redness forming on my neck. My skin was hot to the touch, flushed from the ordeal.
"All vampires have a talent, Sookie. I'm sure you know this. Bill Compton can run at an unprecedented speed. Eric can fly. I can prevent your blood from coagulating. You can bleed to death from my bite, if I choose it."
You'll beg to be mine. You'll beg for it. I shuddered. No way. There was no way. I would rather die than belong to Victor Madden. I couldn't even imagine feeling his putrid excuse for "emotions" through a blood bond, the way I felt Eric. I would absolutely rather bleed to death than be "rescued" by this devil.
"I understand your blood is a delectable treat. You are a legend, Sookie. You are an elixir." Victor seemed to groan with pleasure, even before he bit into me. He positioned his head against my throat. His arms held me against the sofa. I couldn't move. I couldn't even struggle. I was stuck, pinned by a supernatural force. I tried to hold back the tears, but they dripped down my face anyway. Victor didn't seem to notice or care.
The bite was more painful than any I had ever experienced, and I've had a few in my time. He didn't just sink his teeth in. He tore at my skin, tearing away a chunk of flesh which he spit into my lap like a beer bottle cap. Blood poured out of the wound, into his mouth, onto his face. It soaked into my clothes and the cushions of the sofa. I let out a scream that was almost inhuman. The tears dried up, as if every bit of water in my body was fighting to get to the gushing hole in my neck.
I found myself thinking about how quickly I would bleed to death from the jugular. It wouldn't last too long. Did vampires go to heaven? Would I see Eric there?
Victor licked at the hole, the hole that radiated pain. Despite the clot that I knew was forming, the pain didn't cease. It only throbbed more. I was weeping again, my shoulders heavy with tension and fear. Victor leaned back to look at me. One of his hands dropped from my arm and rose up to cradle my cheek. I tore away, disgusted.
"Have patience, my dear." He grinned sadistically. "We are only just getting started. The night is still young, and I will have you before it is over."
I lifted my eyes to the clock on the wall. It was only three-thirty, and the calendar had already hit October. The nights were getting longer, and the sun would not rise until close to seven in the morning. Vomit shot up my throat, but I swallowed it, stinging my esophagus with stomach acid. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. I wasn't going to let him win.
Victor's arms were under me before I could think ahead any farther. He yanked me from the sofa and threw me back, back onto Eric's desk. I'd made love to Eric on this desk, many times. I tried to imagine his cool face, his deep blue eyes, his blond mane falling into his eyes. All I could see was Victor's arrow-like face, his greasy brown hair. His lips curved up into the most gruesome look I had ever seen. That's when I knew what was happening, what was going to happen. It had all been some kind of unrealized nightmare before. I was ready to bleed to death. I was ready to be honest, to admit that Eric and I were involved, that I loved him. But I wasn't ready for this. I couldn't do this.
Victor's belt buckle jingled like keys shoved into a car's ignition. My skin was moist, a cold sweat dripped down under my clothes, stuck into the crevices of my flesh. No, no. This can't be happening. This can't be happening! Victor's hand flew out and wrapped around my throat like a vice. I fell back against the desk, prone. Every muscle seemed to freeze solid, unmovable. I wanted to scream, to fight back, anything at all! Instead, I stared at him with wide eyes and prayed.
***
"God damnit, I can't drive any faster!" Eric growled at the dashboard, his arms flying erratically in gestures of frustration. At ninety-nine miles per hour, forty miles over the night speed limit on the interstate highway, Eric's vintage black Camero raced through the darkness. Pam was beside him, punching numbers into a cellular phone.
"I'm still not getting an answer," Pam frowned, pulling the phone back from her ear.
"Try Bill! Try Sam Merlotte! Gods be damned, Pam. Something is wrong!"
"I'm trying," Pam said quietly. She looked down at the cellular, Sookie's name lit up on the screen. The phone kept ringing, but there was no answer. It was just past three-thirty, and they were coming up on the exit for state highway 175. At this speed, they'd be there in twenty minutes or less. Pam punched in the speed dial for Bill Compton and let the phone ring.
***
"She's here," Sam grunted, sticking his head out the window of the truck. He could smell Sookie on the breeze, and he could sense she was terrified. He pulled the truck to a stop, about twenty feet from the driveway into Fangtasia.
"She's not alone," Bill growled, getting out of the passenger seat. Victor Madden was with her, and someone else, smells he didn't recognize.
"They're werewolves. I picked up their scent at the house. Probably bodyguards."
"I can take down a werewolf," Bill narrowed his eyes.
"Good," Sam nodded, unsure he could boast the same. "Because we aren't getting inside without puncturing the muscle."
