This is Faster on Fire, part 2 of the noir mystery set in 1930s New Orleans that began with My Private Eye. I've had a lot of fun with Eric and Sookie in this time period. Charlaine Harris still owns all the characters and I will continue to sing her praises now that the final Sookie book has been published. I would never presume to rewrite the ending, but I enjoy imagining other adventures for these beloved characters in other times and places. Enjoy!
I darted through the streets of New Orleans, the sound of my heels clacking against the uneven sidewalk as loud as my heart. It wasn't some dark and dangerous pursuer that had me rushing this night, but I was just in a hurry. As I turned the corner and came up on my destination, I deliberately slowed my pace and focused on catching my breath. No one needed to know just how eager I was to see them. I smoothed back my hair and then knocked on the nondescript door, which was immediately answered by a familiar face.
"Oh great. You're here tonight? He'll never get anything done. It's as if he thinks this bar runs itself and can survive without him," Pam said as she waved me into the bar, which still didn't have a name. This only added to its mystique, and it was quickly becoming one of the most popular destination in the dark, seedy corners of Quarter.
"He invited me. We haven't seen each other for days," I said, trying to disguise how Pam's words hurt. I'd thought we were becoming friends, and usually she was excited to see me, even if it meant Eric would be leaving the bar early.
Pam didn't reply, just turned to scold whoever was taking so long to clear the stage and set up for the next performer. I wanted to ask her if Rose would be singing tonight, but hadn't gotten the chance. Though we'd met under less than ideal circumstances, I'd gotten to be friendly with the jazz singer who'd auditioned for a gig here that fateful night. My world had been forever changed when Eric had forced Bill to explain himself to me, then taken me to meet my long lost fairy family—and it'd been a big night for Rose, too. This was her big break. I'd seen her performance a dozen times over the last several weeks, and she'd garnered quite the following. Even Eric would sit and listen to her songs.
The bar was already quite busy, with a few regulars I recognized, both vampire and human. When I'd first started hanging out at the vampire bar, I thought it would be good for business, but the amount of vice projected at me in the thoughts of others was overwhelming, so unless I was looking for something specific, I made it a point to keep my shields up whenever I was here. I'd sensed more than a few impolite thoughts about me when certain people started to notice that Eric paid more attention to me than he did others who came here to do business or entertain themselves.
My relationship with Eric had definitely moved past business to personal. Beyond that, it wasn't something I was trying to define. I knew his regard for me allowed me certain privileges, like going back to his office, but after Pam's teasing I thought it best to wait, so I slid into his favorite booth to wait for him to make an appearance. I'd barely shrugged out of my coat and pulled off my gloves before a gin and tonic was delivered to my table. There's something to be said for the service in vampire bars—at least when you're getting cozy with the boss.
Rose came out of the dressing area, wearing her signature black dress and flowers pinned in her hair, and I was thrilled to see her. As quick as the bartenders were with the service, they were just as quick to leave. Patrons who recognized me knew what I did in my line of work, and weren't interested in chatting with me. Rose was the only one who gave me anything other than a sideways glance or cruel sneer.
"Sookie, I'm glad you're here," she said as she sat across from me. "I swear you're like my good luck charm. I sing the best on the night's you're here."
"I hear you draw a crowd whether I'm here or not," I said.
"Still, something about that night we met…I just feel like I wouldn't have gotten this job if not for you." She smiled wide, her teeth a brilliant white against her dark skin and dark red lips. I wondered if Rose ever sang happy songs, songs where she'd ever get to share that smile with her audience. It was sure to knock their socks off.
"How's your mom?" I asked, knowing she had been sick lately.
"Oh, hanging in there. How are things with you and Mr. Blue Eyes?" she asked.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," I lied, but couldn't disguise my smile. I glanced around to make sure Pam or him hadn't suddenly appeared to eavesdrop, then leaned across the tabled and added, "It's unbelievable. I…I like him. And it's scary."
"Been there, girl," Rose said. She'd had her heart broken, too, which was why she could sing such sad songs so well. "Good luck with Mr. Northman. I'm up," Rose said, and slipped off to get ready for her performance.
I sat sipping on my gin and watching people. Even without an active case to work on, it was hard to turn off the investigator in me. Pam slipped into the back after hurrying along the band setting up for tonight's main show, and not long after, Eric emerged from the office, and slid into the seat beside me.
"Good evening, lover," he said, and leaned in for a kiss.
I turned my face away from him, not wanting to make a scene. "Bank's closed…" I whispered, as he nuzzled my hair.
"You saying my cash is no good?" he teased me. It amazed me how quickly vampires could pick up human slang, when it must change so quickly to their ears. Of course, it was as much a survival tactic as any of their other skills.
"I'll take a check," I said, and winked at him, which prompted a real smile and a slight chuckle.
Eric's hand found my knee under the table, and squeezed. "I missed you," he said, and I turned up to his face, surprised at his admission. Judging by his expression, his words had caught him off guard as well.
Rose came on stage then, and the band started to play. First just a light tapping on the snare drum, then the bass joined in, low and steady. A lone trumpet started following a slow melody, and then, Rose started singing, her voice rising up through the haze of cigar smoke.
As if she was some sort of witch, she cast a spell on the crowd, mesmerizing us all with her voice. As always, she sang of doomed love affairs and broken hearts. I let myself lean against Eric, enjoying the calm, quiet of his mind enveloping me as much as I enjoyed the way his hand tried in vain to sneak up under my skirt. I'd worn an extra slip and complicated garters tonight, just for the satisfaction of Eric having to peel them off later.
Sometimes it seemed that Eric could read my mind, even though I've only caught the faintest glimpse into his thoughts. No sooner was I thinking about the prospect of Eric walking me home and seeing me to bed, than he was motioning Pam over to let her know we were leaving.
"Might as well go; you never get any work done when she's around," Pam said, with a hint of venom in her voice. The look Eric shot her was harsher than any I'd seen him give, and I wondered if the discord between them was about more than me.
The walk back to my office was too long, but at least I had Eric to block the wind. A storm was brewing swiftly and suddenly off the Gulf Coast, and the sky was ready to open any minute.
Just as we were turning down my street, the heavens started falling in the form of giant raindrops. Even though Eric picked me up and ran the rest of the way to my door, we were both drenched by the time we made it to the top of my stairs. I fumbled with the lock, and Eric brushed my hands out of the way and deftly opened it. He closed the door behind us once we were inside, just as a bright bolt of lightning crashed out the window, illuminating him.
If I'd ever doubted Eric was a predator, the look on his face in that moment would have changed my opinion. By the time the boom of thunder sounded, his mouth crashed to mind. What scared me more than his expression was that if being devoured was going to feel this good, I didn't mind.
It had been less than a week since we'd last seen each other, but we kissed as if we'd been starving for months and only just found sustenance. Our drenched clothes weighed us down, and I struggled to shrug off my coat and pull Eric's down off his shoulders. His lips broke free of me long enough to divest his and help me out of mine. Then he looked down at me, his blue eyes unfathomable, and kissed me again.
Like every night we'd done this for the past few months, I pushed any thoughts of the consequences from my mind and surrendered to the moment.
If we'd been human, we'd have stumbled around trying to break free of our wet clothes without breaking our kiss, but since Eric was a vampire, he picked me up and deposited me on my bed, stripped, before I could even catch my breath. The layers I'd worn didn't slow him down at all.
When I thought about Eric, which I sometimes did on the nights we spent apart, I fantasized about a slow seduction. He would be waiting on my bed, like the night of Jason's party—the night we hadn't even kissed. He would be lying there, in the same pose, his hands folded behind his head, resting on my favorite pillow.
It always started off just as it had that night, with me removing my earrings and pulling the pins out of my hair and letting it fall over my shoulders, then slipping off my shoes and placing them in the closet. Only then, I didn't stop.
Sometimes in this fantasy, I started unbuttoning my dress, from the collar to the waist, then slid it off my shoulders and let it drop to the floor. I'd climb into bed, slowly, and either continue undressing myself while he watched, or lie back and let him do the work. Then he did the same, until we were both bare before each other. We explored each other's bodies with just the tips of our fingers and the lightest brushes of lips.
My vision was never anything like the passion of reality, with greedy strokes and forceful clash of tongues. Our desire was so strong it eclipsed want and became need, so desperate we were for each other.
At first I thought it was just the excitement of the new, or my fear it would end abruptly. But we'd been meeting every week for a few months, and showed no sign of slowing down. Then I considered I might be rushed because of the late hour. As much as I enjoyed late night visits from Eric after the bar closed, I generally slept between midnight and dawn, the only hours he was available. I couldn't have kept up with my business if I saw him any more frequently, and was exhausted mornings after he'd visited.
I enjoyed being with Eric physically and the attentions he bestowed on my body, but I looked forward to what might come after so much more. On the few nights I hadn't immediately fallen asleep or Eric hadn't immediately needed to leave, he'd held me, and we'd talked.
It wasn't even ever about important things, but it meant something to me. One night he told me about the kind of music he liked, and how he enjoyed finding new bands and performers to play in his club. Jazz was his thing; he loved the unexpected rhythms, the syncopated beats, the unpredictable melodies. Once Eric had even told me a bit about Pam and when they'd first come to America, and something about his expression made me think that he hadn't spoken of that time to anyone, even her.
He'd nuzzle me, letting his lips graze my neck, causing the skin he'd pierced in order to feed to burn with remembered sensation, though each morning when I looked for evidence of his bite, my skin was unmarked. He'd kiss my breasts, flicking out his tongue to tease my nipple as he told me I had the most beautiful set he'd ever seen. I would tell him stories about my life before New Orleans, when he asked about my childhood. He let—and encouraged—me to touch him, and although I didn't think he needed the ego boost, I let him know how much I enjoyed parts of him.
"Which part is your favorite?" he'd asked.
My cheeks flushed, and I buried my face against his shoulder, which made him laugh, a rare sound I wondered if many others got to hear.
"Oh, tell me. Is it this?" He moved my hand between us, letting it rest on a part of his anatomy I did quite enjoy, but was still not my favorite. I shook my head, moving my hand to small of his back, following the curve to his thigh.
"Sookie, you prefer my backside?" he teased, and I gave him a good smack on his rear, which led to other, more playful things.
In those stolen moments with Eric, it was as if we were the only two people in the world. And that fleeting feeling was so rare, so incomprehensible, that I wanted to experience as much of it as I could before circumstances beyond our control inevitably ruined whatever it was we were sharing. Whether it was my because of my fae enemies, vampire politics, or the simple fact I was mortal and he was not, we would inevitably be pulled apart. It was only a matter of time.
"Eric…" I said when he broke away from my mouth and started trailing kisses down my neck, letting his fangs tease along my pulse point. "Hold on. Can we slow down?" I managed to get the words out. This time would be different, I resolved.
"Oh, you want it slow, do you?" Eric said, flashing me a wicked grin. "Sookie, you should be careful what you wish for, and remember just how much differently time moves for me than for you…" and then he began again. Teasing me with his tongue, taunting me with his fingers, bringing me to the edge again and again and still refusing to send me over. Even when our bodies finally joined, he was painstakingly slow.
"Oh, please…" I finally moaned. But he didn't pick up the pace, still slowing pulling out of me before just as slowly slipping back in, but punctuating it with an extra thrust.
"Please what?" he asked, innocently, still cool, calm, collected while I had been reduced to a sweaty mess.
"Eric…" was all I'd been able to say, because I didn't know what I wanted, except for him.
"Is this what you want, Sookie?" he asked, capturing my eyes as he began to move inside of me with more force and determination.
It was. But at this point, I was beyond words, so I leaned in and kissed his neck, then bit down with my dull teeth just hard enough for him to feel it, and he'd come undone, flipped me over and continued from behind, pumping with a new sense of urgency. Just before he sank his fangs into the curve of my neck, he whispered "mine" in my ear.
We collapsed and lay tangled together for a long, blissful time, and the only sound I could hear was my own heart. When I'd finally calmed, Eric gathered me to him, spooning me from behind, and kissed my shoulder, then my neck.
"You are mine," he reiterated, and I stiffened.
Just a moment ago, I had been. In the throes of passion, there would have been no denying it. But now, in the calm afterglow, I didn't think we meant the same thing by it.
"Of course I am, Eric." I turned in his arms and kissed him lightly on the mouth. "When it's just the two of us, here, in my bed, I'm all yours. But don't think you can say that in front of any other vampires."
His eyes narrowed at me until his face was a barely concealed mask of fury.
"So, is that how you see me? Simply here to pleasure you and leave until another vampire comes along? Perhaps you're looking forward to becoming the queen's property. No doubt there will be a line of vampires ready to taste your blood, even if it only has the faintest taste of fairy." He sat up in bed, letting the sheets fall back from him, revealing his perfectly sculpted chest and arms.
I resisted the urge to slap him.
"No, Eric." I sat up too, feeling dwarfed by his large frame leaning over me. Gathering up the sheets to keep the chill away, I searched for the words to explain. I knew most women would be happy to hear such a declaration. I saw all kinds of cheating bastards, men who wouldn't touch their wives but went whoring about the Quarter. Perhaps it was a blessing that I'd never be able to be a wife to a human man. I wasn't sure I had it in me.
But I'd done the "you are mine" thing with a vampire, and it hadn't turned out well. I had the scars to remind me of where that path led. Possessiveness I could handle, but I wouldn't give someone that kind of power over me again.
Eric just glared at me, his eyes icy blue flames.
"Listen. I like being with you. I like spending time with you. I like what we do when we're together. I don't want to stop." I paused just long enough to hold back from saying what I was thinking, which was that I had no idea how Eric passed the nights we didn't spend together, or who he spent them with. Eric may have wanted me to be his. But I was under no delusion that it went both ways. Eric could never be mine. I was aware of his reputation and knew he certainly wasn't feeding solely from me. There was no way he could, at least not if I wanted to stay healthy. What we had now was enough for me, if only because it was all that was possible. "Can't we just let this be? Enjoy what we have?" I reached up to cup his cheek, but he turned away from my hand.
"You punish me for someone else's sins," he said, but he refused to meet my eyes. "And you are more naïve than I thought if you do not see how much you need me."
"Because of your queen? If she comes for me tomorrow, what exactly are you going to do? Defy her, stand by me?"
"If you were mine…"
But that word made sent a shiver up my spine again, igniting my own anger. "Yes, Eric. Please tell me. If I'm yours, what does that change?"
He trained his blue eyes on me, giving me an icy glare that sent a shiver up my spine. "You don't trust me."
"No, I don't," I said. I trusted Eric not to kill me, but that was about it. If he could help it, I figured he'd try to keep me safe from the water fae who had it in for me, if only because he had some history with my great-grandfather Niall. I doubted he had any intention of turning me over to his queen…unless it suited his interests. I wasn't fool enough to think that Eric's offer of protection was absolute or selfless.
And I certainly didn't trust him with my heart.
Eric narrowed his eyes at me until they were slits. His anger was palpable, as if it was another living, breathing entity taking up the air in the room. Without speaking, he abruptly departed from my bed and began to dress.
"So you're just leaving?" I asked.
Instead of answering, he went over to the window and opened it, letting in a rush of cold air. I pulled the blankets up around me. He gave me one last unfathomable look before elegantly climbing out the window and taking off into the night.
We wouldn't be cuddling tonight.