Chapter 13

Welcome To The Den Of Sin

This chapter is dedicated to my two most avid reviewers, ericismine and stealingdreams. My deepest thanks to you two especially for reviewing and feeding my obsession to warp and twist Eric and Sookie's relationship in a million different ways. This chapter is dedicated to you guys!!!

We were hurtling at what seemed like warp speed towards Shreveport. I figured we probably had about an hour until dawn. I had been worried that Eric may be too sluggish to drive but he seemed alert enough, taking curves at 80 miles an hour. My nerves were frayed and abused by the time we pulled into the drive of a unassuming, one story brick home.

It looked normal enough, quite a bit smaller than what you might think a powerful vampire Sheriff might call home. I assumed it was because he didn't spend much time here other than to hide from the sun. I did note that there were no other homes occupying the four nearest lots, two on either side.

I was anxious to get inside, waiting for the single car garage door to open took an eternity. We drove inside of what looked like your average garage. There were tools lying about, boxes labeled with their contents. Tax paperwork from previous years, excess stock of Fangtasia t-shirts and logo cocktail napkins. It looked purposefully disorganized. Someone was trying really hard to look sloppy and it wasn't translating, at least not to me.

I was lost in thought when I realized that Eric had opened my door and was extending his hand to help me out of his car. This simple gesture had so much meaning for me. My heart skipped a beat and I felt like a girl with her first case of puppy love. In my case I guess it was more akin to rabid Pit Bull love.

Eric kept hold of my hand as he entered a ridiculously long code into a keypad that was hidden in plain sight. I hadn't noticed it until he had begun pressing keys. I heard a beep and the door mechanism unlocked for us to enter. He turned to me and smiled.

"I can assure you that I do not sleep in the dirt under this house. I don't share Bill's affinity for simple accommodations. I also prize my safety and security. Please keep this in mind and try not to think me too paranoid."

We stepped inside of a small kitchen. It contained a huge stainless steel fridge, microwave and a small table with two chairs. No stove, of course. There were light-proof shutter covering the windows. I assumed that they would be standard throughout the rest of the house.

"I am sorry to say that I only have TruBlood in there." he motioned to the icebox. "I promise to have Pam remedy this as soon as possible. If you're hungry I would order something to be delivered."

I shook my head, and squeezed his hand.

"I couldn't possibly think about food right now."

He returned my weary smile and kissed my hand.

"Shall I show you the rest of my home?"

"Please proceed, lover."

I thrilled at the sound of my voice calling him something so intimate. The fact that he still had me by the hand, like teens on a first date, endeared him to me more by the minute.

We walked out of the kitchen area into a good sized room that I guessed was the living room. The walls were painted a deep midnight blue that had a very tranquil effect. There was a large red leather sofa and two matching chairs, the biggest plasma television that I had ever seen, a formidable black, wooden coffee table . A few unusual lamps on various occasional tables throughout the room cast the only light. There were the shutters over the windows like there had been in the kitchen. The whole set-up looked like something out of a GQ photo shoot, it was very, very Eric.

The last thing that captured my gaze was a huge painting that hung on the far wall behind the sofa. It was a very rugged looking landscape, savage in it's beauty and unlike anything I have ever seen around the likes of Bon Temps. The artistry was wondrous. It almost seemed that I could see the tall golden grasses move in with a breeze or sense the rocking of the ancient ships that were harbored in the distance.

Eric maneuvered behind me and wrapped his arms around me as he spoke.

"I had a very famous vampire artist paint this for me. Her name is Julia Via, she can capture a specific memory from your mind and paint it as you remember it. It cost me quite a lot of money but it was well worth it. This is the most specific memory I have of my homeland, a place so ancient that you would not find it on a map or even mentioned in a book somewhere. The name has left me after this thousand years but the image of this land and the sea beyond has stayed."

I'd never really been given pause to think of Eric as a human. Until tonight, though secretly I had longed and lusted for him, I had viewed him only as a businessman, a policeman of sorts for the undead and not least, a vicious killer, dangerous to those who defied or threatened him. Hearing the story of this painting brought a new perspective, one that made me sad for him, that he never had much of a human experience and his thousand years had jaded him in ways that I could never hope to undo. I loved him as he was and I really didn't want to change anything about him. He was showing me his tender side, his concerned and caring side. To me it was the equivalent of baring your jugular for your would-be killer. I realized now that I had true power over him. I could hurt him in so many ways if I was a vindictive or vicious person.

He tugged at me gently, breaking my reverie.

"Come, there is more to see and I feel myself growing weaker as the sun is rising."

The next room he showed me was the bathroom. It had no bathtub, only a shower stall and a small toilet. I was shocked. It was common knowledge, or so I had thought, that tub baths were a universal past time of all vampires. The warm water raised the temperature of their skin and this was pleasant to them. Eric had always been one of the most indulgent of his kind in my experience, so to find this small, cheerless water closet in his home made me mute with disbelief.

There were three bedrooms in his home. One was full of exercise equipment, some looked extremely expensive. I'd never thought about vampires exercising. I had assumed that how you were when you were made was how you were for the rest of your existence.

The second bedroom was slightly smaller than the first one and it was full of computer equipment. I could see Ginjer, one of Fangtasia's human barmaids, wiping down the bar top. I wasn't surprised that he had his business under video surveillance. He even had the men and women's restrooms under the watchful camera's lens. That sneaky rat! I had changed in that restroom the night Bill had staked Longshadow in my defense.

The next bedroom was the largest of the three, the master bedroom I assumed, but there was no bed to be seen. This room was Eric's personal museum of Scandinavian artifacts. There were glass display cases of weapons, crude armor, and various other things. In the center of the room was the largest case, inside it, on a pillow of red velvet, lay the most intimidating-looking sword I could imagine. It was obviously very old but had been cared for. The blade was double-edged, the handle was made of some type of wood and had been adorned with what looked like copper and silver. Dark stains marred the surface of the wooden handle. I knew, without asking that it was blood. It seemed that Eric had gone to great lengths to add something as old as this to his collection.

"That is my sword, given to me by my father as it had been given to him by his father. It never failed me in battle. I slay hundreds upon hundreds of my enemies with this iron and steel. In my early days as a vampire, it was a constant companion. Somehow I have managed to keep hold of it all this time."

I was speechless. Eric's hands had yielded this weapon as a human a thousand years ago, and his father and grandfather had as well. I wondered if they had looked alike or sounded similar. What had his mother been like? Did they have the same kind of familial bond that people did today? I felt Eric sway on his feet. I began to panic. We had been through every room and I saw nowhere that was fit for him to spend the day.

"Will you accompany me to my bed?"

Bill had never given me the option of spending the day with him. I would have gladly crawled into that space under his home to be near him but he never asked and I never offered.

"Do you sleep in a coffin?"

"Not in my home. Only when I travel and that is out of necessity. Come."

His sentences were growing shorter and I knew he was struggling to stay awake and on his feet. Even though the sun was safely blocked from getting inside here, it's draining effects remained the same.

I followed him back to the small bathroom. I was tired myself and this only fueled my confusion as to why we were in here again.

Eric opened the shower door and reached down, hooking a finger in the drain. Much to my surprise and delight, the floor of the shower lifted up like a trap door.

"Follow."

One word was all he could manage as he started down the tight spiral of steps that were hidden beneath that dinky shower floor.