Thanks to Cageyspice for editing. If you haven't yet read it, check out her story Dead Rising. It was nominated for a Fangreader's award!

Chapter 4

"Go. Now." Pam's words echoed in my head as I pushed through the crowd. I wanted out of the building as soon as possible. Whatever was to come about as a result the raid, I didn't want to be any part of it.

If law enforcement actually confronted Eric or Pam, I wondered what would happen. Would handcuffs hold them? Would they fight back? Or would they get thrown in cells where they'd die for the day? Would the vampires slaughter the whole lot of officers, then glamour all the witnesses? That seemed more likely, and would result in more damage to innocent people. Escape was surely the best option for all involved, and I hoped we'd manage to get out without confrontation.

That didn't mean I had any idea what to say to Eric. Pam had accepted my word without asking for much evidence or explanation, but I was afraid Eric wouldn't be so quick to believe me.

When I burst through the door, I found him resting his head on the butt of one of his hands as he leaned over his desk. His other wrist moved in quick, elegant gestures, writing hurriedly across a large notebook. He had rolled up his shirtsleeves to the elbow, revealing more of his white skin than I'd seen before. His tie was loosened at the collar, and his blond hair, no longer concealed by his hat, framed his face.

"Eric!" I said with exasperation, but he only held up a finger to me, intent on committing his thoughts to ink before acknowledging me. Since I hadn't prepared a speech yet, I took the moment to collect my thoughts. All too soon, he set his pen aside and looked up at me.

"Yes, Sookie." His eyes flitted from my face to my shoes, then back up again. "Belinda has finally arrived?"

"No—we have to leave. Now." He stood and looked up at me, and I grabbed his arm, trying to pull him towards the exit. But of course vampires don't follow just because you tug on their sleeve, and he didn't budge. In exasperation, I said, "there's going to be a raid! G-men!"

My meaning finally sank in, and I saw him decide I was telling the truth, and then resolve to act now and ask questions later. With uncanny vampire speed, he grabbed my hand, wrenching me so hard I thought my arm might have pulled out from the socket, and dragged me toward the door. He grabbed his jacket and overcoat on our way out the back entrance and then we were suddenly several blocks away from Death Warmed Over before he set me back down. It took a couple seconds for my stomach to catch up with the rest of my body, we'd moved so fast.

Eric had tucked us in an alcove hidden down an alley maybe three blocks from Death Warmed Over—three blocks in the opposite direction of my office—but I still recognized this particularly dark corner of the Quarter. It wouldn't have been my first choice of location to be alone with a vampire.

If I had to pick a vampire to be stuck with, Eric didn't seem the worst of choices, even if he did have me pinned against the old abandoned doorway, his eyes boring into mine. He seemed to be more motivated to keep me alive than other vampires I'd met, at least at the moment.

The moon was visible above the rooftops, a big, fat, wolf moon, glowing bright enough to illuminate the hard line of Eric's jaw, clenching as hard as his hands were on the tops of my shoulders. He leaned down so that his lips were at my ear. The loose strands of my hair brushed against my cheek as he inhaled deeply. I felt the air blow back out of his mouth and onto my neck as he spoke. "How did you know there would be raid tonight, Sookie?" His voice was even, calm, contrasting sharply with the blue flames I'd seen in his eyes just a moment ago.

Just as I was searching out the words to satisfactorily answer Eric's question so he wouldn't drain me dry, while at the same time not letting on exactly what my special skill was, I caught a particularly predatory line of thought, flashing red with warning and rushing in our direction. I assumed it was an agent in pursuit of those fleeing the bar, though the thoughts were nothing more than feeling and color rather than the words and images that the thoughts of most humans consisted of. But I didn't have time for analysis. I wasn't sure that Eric wouldn't kill an officer of the law who questioned him and I desperately wanted to avoid being a witness to that confrontation.

"Shh…" I warned, reaching out and pulling him flush against me, hoping we were invisible in the dark recesses of the wall. "Someone's coming down the alley," I said so quietly that anyone without extra-sensitive vampire hearing wouldn't have caught my words. Eric's hands tightened their grip on my shoulders and I felt his fangs brush the skin of my neck as they descended. The only sound was my breath and the clop of boots moving our way, splashing in the puddles of water on the uneven ground.

"Hey! You there!" Our pursuer had spotted us in the shadows.

Eric's hips dug further into mine, and I felt the relief of a sigh before he turned away from me to face him, though one hand still gripped my arm.

"Indecency, is what this is," he said as he raised a pistol to us. "An abomination!"

Then everything happened more quickly than I could comprehend; as if in slow motion I saw the man who was definitely not an agent or a cop cock his weapon. He closed one eye as if winking at me, and an eerily familiar smile curled his lips before he fired.

Though he had very deliberately aimed his weapon at me, it was Eric that took the hit and the gunman who didn't live to tell the story. Eric withdrew a crude metal shank from the breast pocket of his jacket and drove it into the man's gut seconds after taking the bullet, which hadn't seemed to cause more than a mild discomfort when it'd lodged itself in his chest. Our attacker collapsed on the gravel of the alley.

There was a growing red stain on Eric's shirt. He pulled it open, exposing the wound. "I took this bullet for you, Sookie. The least you can do it get it out. Put your mouth over the wound and suck."

Ignoring the dead man lying face down on the gravel, I turned to Eric. "No!"

"Don't be squeamish now, Sookie." He lowered his eyes to me, and I felt the tickle of his attempt to glamour me, which was unsuccessful yet again.

"That bullet is already working its way out. But if you want me to dig it out with my finger, I will." Squeamish had nothing to do with why I wouldn't suck that bullet out. I didn't know everything about how you became a vampire or what exactly the ritual or act that caused it was, but I knew part of it was drinking their blood, and the last thing I wanted was to be a vampire. But before he could answer, the hunk of metal had pushed its way out of his flesh and fallen into my waiting palm. "See? You must think I'm stupid, if you thought I'd willingly take the blood of a random vampire."

Eric glared menacingly at me for a moment, and then said something so low and gruff that I didn't catch his words. He picked up his trench coat and draped it over my shoulders. He turned to face me, his figure silhouetted by the light of the moon. "What are you?"

"I'm Sookie Stackhouse," I said, though his question hadn't been 'who'.

Eric just laughed wryly as he began buttoning up his bloody shirt. "I'll see you home. I assume you've had enough excitement for tonight."

"What about the body?" I asked, but as I glanced down, I saw that disposal might not be a problem. Unlike a vampire, who flakes away as if turning to ash, this body was disintegrating into a glittery pile of nothing. "Never mind," I added, wondering exactly what sort of supernatural creature had attacked us.

"Come on. Let's go," he said, hooking his arm around my back and pressing me into his side as he led me down the alley.

I started to tell him to get his hands off me, but then I realized he was using me to cover the blood on his side. We attracted enough attention as it was, with Eric's impressive height and head-turning good looks. Any evidence of a substantial wound would draw unwanted stares, but it was hidden where my body was flush against his. Luckily, as I had Eric's large trench around me, my good suit was safe from residual blood.

I had to focus on walking in order to keep up with Eric and his long legs, so it was fortunate that he didn't try to make conversation on our stroll home. When we got to the bottom of my stairs I tried to pull away, but he walked right up behind me.

"Why are you following me?" I asked.

"We need to talk."

Right. He hadn't forgotten about his earlier questions even though we'd been attacked during his interrogation. Apparently being shot at wouldn't allow me to escape his inquiries after all. I pulled my lip between my teeth, chewing on it as I weighed my options. I hadn't rescinded Eric's invitation after he'd left last night, so he could still follow me into my office even though I technically lived there. I also didn't think he'd leave without some answers, and I didn't want to have this conversation on my front stoop.

"Alright. Business only, and it has to be quick."

"For a second I thought you were worried about what the man in the alley thought of you inviting in a strange man in the middle of the night."

I craned my neck and stood on my tiptoes so I could peer over Eric's shoulder. Sam was definitely taking his sweet time bringing out the night's garbage, drawing out the task long enough to make it clear he was lingering to watch my conversation with Eric.

"No, my hesitation doesn't have anything to do with him." I looked Eric over, then realized that he could have already killed me if that had been his intention. Besides, I was interested in his thoughts on why we'd been attacked in the alley and who might have tipped off the Feds about his illegal bar. "You can come in, but it has to be quick." I turned to unlock my door, but a large hand covered mine, the other resting atop mine on the knob, and expertly guided me to unlock my troublesome deadbolt. It did not escape my notice that Eric's hands lingered over my own. As careful as I was to avoid touching people, the sensation of skin on skin was heightened for me, and I wasn't unhappy that I wasn't wearing my gloves.

"Thank you," I said. "It always sticks."

Eric didn't reply as he followed me effortlessly over the threshold into the small office at the front of my apartment. As I was shedding his coat, he noticed the small white rectangle on the side table in the entranceway. It was Mr. Cataliades card, hastily abandoned when I'd come home after meeting the strange lawyer outside my brother's jail cell. That whole ordeal felt as if it was ages ago, though it was only this afternoon.

"You know the demon lawyer?" Eric asked, looking at me with suspicion and disbelief.

"No, I only met him today, while I was downtown on a legal matter. He gave me his card and offered his services, should I ever need them. Why do you ask? Are you acquainted with the lawyer? And by 'demon', did you mean that metaphorically, or am I to interpret that literally?"

That most disconcerting smile curled the corners of his lips. "I only know him by reputation. And he is a demon, quite literally, I'm afraid, though obviously his heritage is mixed enough for him to pass as human. I believe his mother was only half-demon." Without an invitation, Eric sat on the worn sofa, stretching his long legs out in front of him and crossing them at the ankles.

I hung his coat on the rack by the door. As there was no other available seating except for my desk chair, which was too far across the room for comfortable conversation, I reluctantly sat next to Eric, though I was careful to leave a cushion's worth of room between us. I smoothed over my blouse and checked my skirt for damage while I contemplated Eric's revelation that the lawyer I'd met earlier had been part demon. It explained the supernaturalness I had detected but couldn't place, not to mention his peculiarly dense thoughts.

Eric interrupted my reverie with another question. "What was the legal matter that prompted you to cross paths with Mr. Cataliades?"

"Another case," I said, afraid that although my face would be free from emotion Eric would have heard the extra thump of my heart. Before he could continue this line of questioning, I spoke. "Someone must have alerted the authorities to the presence of your bar."

This question seemed to effectively distract Eric. His anger was evident in the tight line on his jaw and the clenching of his fist, resting on the back edge of the sofa where his arm extended across the space between us. "Yes. And I am going to find out who is responsible. You are going to help."

"I don't see how that is part of our original agreement."

"It is rather obvious that the raid was timed to delay your interrogations. It is certainly relevant to your investigation." It was then that I realized this simple theft was a far bigger scheme than I had anticipated. And that I would never be able to refuse a request from Eric again. I'd been foolish to agree to work for a vampire. So far, it'd nearly gotten me arrested, then killed, and I was no closer to finding the true Midnight Romeo or clearing my brother's name.

"Do you know who attacked us in the alley?" I asked. Perhaps more important that either Jason's or Eric's current predicament was that someone in New Orleans apparently wanted me dead, and I had no idea why.

"You mean who meant to kill you? Haven't the faintest idea, sweetheart. Know anyone holding a grudge against you?"

I sighed, long and loud. That list wasn't short, and I had no means of limiting my list of suspects, though I had a hunch it was somehow connected to either Jason's predicament or my latest client. "Hard to say."

"Indeed." Eric didn't seem to be paying attention to my words any longer, however. His eyes were entranced with my neck. He licked his lips, and I noticed his tongue run across the very tip of a fang.

"Why did you try to get me to drink your blood?" I blurted out.

That got Eric's attention again. "Why are you so sure that was my goal?"

"You're not the first vampire I've met, Mr. Northman," I responded coyly. No need to divulge my romantic past.

"Is that so? Then perhaps, considering I took a bullet for you tonight, you would be so kind as to offer me a refreshment in return?" He reached out toward me so his fingers grazed my neck, trailing lightly along the vein until they rested momentarily on my pulse. "I lost a deal of blood tonight in your defense, you can see."

"Certainly not," I said, firmly and resolutely.

"Very well then, we'll just have to see what sort of ladies Storyville might be offering."

I wondered how long Eric must have been in New Orleans, to refer to the red light district in such an antiquated fashion. Though the palaces along Basin Street were officially shut down, there was still a bedlam of illegal activity on that edge of the Quarter. And I didn't suppose Eric would be visiting that particular neighborhood to bet on cockfights.

Then it suddenly occurred to me that Eric Northman could very well be the Midnight Romeo himself. He obviously frequented the same haunts as Jason. It was quite possible he'd been the one leaving dead blondes about the Quarter, drained of their blood with their brains bashed in. Though I wouldn't have thought Eric so careless, I didn't really know him at all.

I took care to be sure that no evidence of my revelation showed on my face. "I wish you … luck," I said, not sure what the appropriate response to such a comment was. Eric stood from the sofa, donned his long trench, which effectively hid his bloody shirt. I stood to see him out.

"We will resume our investigation tomorrow night," he said, and gave one last long, regretful look at my throat.

"Goodnight, Eric," I said, as he walked out the door.

"Goodnight, Sookie," he replied. I closed the door, turned the deadbolt, and murmured a withdrawal of his invitation, just in case.