Many heads turned away from their slot machines when Eric entered the Shamrock Casino in Bossier City on a freezing January night. He wore a navy pinstripe suit with no tie, and the first two buttons of his crisp white shirt had been left undone. As he walked past the gamblers that surrounded him, he flashed wide smiles and occasional winks, leaving many a flustered female in his wake. He strode over to the bar area as if he owned it and gave the name of Alcide Herveaux to the greeter.

"Right this way, sir," she chirped.

In spite of his casual jeans and LSU sweatshirt, Alcide looked wound-up and anxious. Seeing Eric approach, he threw back a glass of whatever he was drinking and cocked his head at the empty seat across from him.

"Eric."

"Alcide."

"Another brandy, Mr. Herveaux?" their waitress asked, holding her small round tray up at shoulder level.

Alcide waved his hand in a gesture of refusal. "No, thank you."

"And you, sir?"

"Nothing for me." Eric winked at her. "Nothing at the moment, anyway."

The young woman's face flushed scarlet, and she gave him a bashful smile as she left them alone. Eric appraised the surroundings with one smooth sweep of his eyes. The televisions in the bar were set to sports and news channels. All they had to do was wait.

At other bars and casinos in Shreveport and the surrounding area, Eric had dispatched vampires to see that the Weres' coming-out party went safely and smoothly. Pam had stayed at Fangtasia, while Clancy had joined Bill at the bar in Bon Temps. Victor's people in New Orleans were doing the same, as were Sandy and her minions at the post in Baton Rouge. Felipe had made it clear that he wanted the transition to be as smooth as possible in the states he governed, not so much for the Weres' good as for their own. Riots or other disturbances against any supernatural creatures could just as easily turn against the vampires, and they should be avoided at all costs.

Eric looked at Alcide and smirked. "I suppose everyone here knows the name of Herveaux."

"Because of my father," the Were scowled. "Not because of me."

They had nothing to say to each other, so they didn't. And then the cat – and the wolf and the dog and the fox and everything else in the zoo – was out of the bag.

Eric was back at Fangtasia before midnight, quite pleased at the relatively uneventful reaction to the Furry Revelation. Judging by the calls he had made on his drive home, the story was by and large the same. After vampires, shifters just weren't nearly as earth-shaking. At three in the morning, Eric was able to call Felipe with not a single incident to report.

"This is very good," Felipe said when Eric had finished. "But I must say that I am much more interested in hearing about your telepath."

Eric froze for a moment, then pulled himself together. It had always been his rule to make serious things casual by pretending they were just that. "You mean Sookie?" he said lightly.

"Indeed. Victor told me about her skills." Felipe gave a soft laugh. "This does explain why a little human waitress would be working for you. Why she would… draw your attention."

"Yes," he replied. "She has proven herself useful on several occasions."

"I believe her talent is being wasted. She should not be hidden away in Louisiana and called out for special occasions. I intend to invite her to join my court in Las Vegas." By "invite," Felipe meant "order." It was the unspoken rule with kings and queens. He went on, "Victor tells me that she can read Were and shifter minds as well, at least to an extent. Now that they are out in the open and dealing with us more in the public eye, I could use Miss Stackhouse to listen to the ones who deal with me. Would this be acceptable to you?"

Casual, Eric reminded himself. Light. Don't answer directly. "It is, of course, your decision. But she has many attachments here. I don't know if she would like the idea."

"Human attachments do not concern me," Felipe said frankly. "However, if a vampire has a prior claim to her, I will not violate that."

"I do. I have a prior claim to her." Fucking hell, what are you doing?

"Yes, a blood bond. Easily undone or worn away with time. I speak of a formal attachment. A marriage." He waited in vain for a reply from Eric. "Victor will be there tomorrow night at seven to discuss my proposition with you and with the telepath. See that she is there."

"I will."

"The second matter we must discuss: Quinn the tiger requests permission to enter your territory for the purpose of speaking to Sookie. I suspect that he wants to convince her to accept my invitation. Will you give this permission?"

Eric clenched his free hand and fought for an even tone. "It will be addressed at my meeting with Victor and Sookie tomorrow evening."

"Very well, that is all. Take care, my friend."

Eric set the phone down and sat very still for a long time. Directly across the room, on the shelves to the right of his office door, lay a bundle of black velvet that held the bonding knife from the marriage ceremony in Rhodes. The knife had been in the pocket of the robe Sookie threw around him during the bombing. And it had been used to take his blood for the exchange, if not Sookie's. He crossed the room in a flash and located the thin, white binder that held his materials from the Church of the Loving Spirit's online ordination course.

Vampires married in a variety of ways, depending on religion, culture, age, and taste, among other things. He flipped through the binder, scanning each page impatiently. And finally, there it was.

Rite 7b. Vampire/Human. While 7a (see above) dictates that the human spills his/her blood for the vampire, and 7c (below) requires that both parties spill blood for each other, 7b is used to symbolize the submission of the vampire to the human, the immortal to the temporal, the drinker of blood to the living being who sustains him/her. Considered unorthodox and even taboo in some societies.

1. Use the ceremonial knife to spill the vampire's blood. The human lover drinks from the vampire. Blood exchange from human to vampire is optional. As with all rites that involve a blood exchange, most couples choose to carry out step 1 in private. This wish should always be accommodated.

2. The knife is given to the human as a symbol of the vampire's life being placed in his/her hands.

3. The human returns the knife to the vampire as a symbol of love; i.e., the human recognizes and receives the vampire's act of devotion, but does not expect the vampire's servitude or loss of free will.

4. The marriage is sacred unless and until the human requests the return of the knife, to which request the vampire must comply. The vampire cannot end the marriage.

Eric closed the binder and pushed it back onto the shelf among the other books. He took the knife, running his index finger down the shining blade. This plan would protect Sookie from Felipe, and it would cost her nothing. She would resent him for it, but that would be nothing new, he thought with a wry smile.

When he tried to call Sookie's house, the witch Octavia answered and told him that Sookie wasn't at home yet. She still hadn't come home an hour after that, and it would be too late at night to attempt to call her again. Cursing under his breath, he prepared the knife in its ceremonial trappings and left a note for Bobby Burnham to contact Sookie first thing in the morning. He wrote out detailed instructions and finished the note: "Track her down, deliver the message in person, and be polite." He underlined the last two words.

He laid one hand on the black material, tied with its gold tasseled cord, and stared at it. Now, Sookie, the vampire's life is placed in your hands.

He couldn't think of a better place to be.

* * *

"You're joking, right? You can't get married in jeans and a t-shirt."

That had been Pam's first reaction when he called her into his office, told her to show in Victor and Sookie when they arrived, and explained that he would be pledging himself to Sookie. He had expected more opposition from her; he had expected her to try to talk him out of it. But it seemed that Pam had given up when it came to him and Sookie. Her only commentary on the situation was a silent one: when she emerged in her costume for the evening, it included a black veil.

"It's a marriage, not a funeral," he told her with a short laugh.

Pam adjusted the sheer material over her face with a haughty look. "Same thing." She eyed his clothes again and shook her head. "And at least one of us is dressed for the occasion."

"I don't want Victor to suspect anything before Sookie arrives."

"Oh, he won't, believe me," she smirked.

"Make sure that Sookie has the knife wrapped up before she enters my office. Make sure she understands that she needs to handle it with care, and that she needs to give it to me with a certain amount of ceremony. If we don't pull this off, I don't know of another way to keep her out of Felipe's control."

She nodded along as she listened to his instructions, her expression growing darker. "Would she go to such lengths for you?" she asked when he finished.

"She risked her life for me and for you," he reminded her. "And this is… this is not entirely unselfish. This is something I want."

"I'm not used to being afraid for you, Master. I like Sookie, but I would always choose you over her. I don't like to see you endangering yourself for a human." Her candor took him aback. Pam rarely, if ever, admitted to having feelings deeper than a coat of nail polish.

"I refuse to give up happiness for safety. Haven't I taught you that immortality is worthless if you don't enjoy it? Carpe diem, as Appius liked to say."

He watched, pleased, as understanding lit her eyes. She grinned. "It's always been Lesson Number One."

"So you were paying attention." Behind her, he saw Victor stride into the bar. He lowered his gaze back to hers and said quietly, "Here goes nothing."

After the three of them exchanged the requisite greetings, Eric left Pam to manage the bar as he led Victor back to his office. Victor was in high spirits as he talked about the recovery progress in New Orleans. Sookie's knock came only five minutes later.

"Come in, Sookie," Eric said loudly. Every nerve ending inside him caught fire and danced when she stepped inside and shut the door. She made him absurdly happy, and he wondered if it was just her, or if he had simply forgotten over the years how forceful happiness could be.

"Hi, Eric." She smiled at him, then turned to smile at Victor, who had risen to greet her.

Eric had a moment of anxiety when he thought she had forgotten the knife, but his fears were allayed when she took it from her purse, still wrapped in the dark velvet. Holding it in both hands, she stepped forward and set the bundle on his desk.

"What has our fair-haired friend brought you, Eric?" Victor asked as Sookie sat down in the empty chair near him.

Eric was careful to keep his face impassive as he opened the bundle and raised the ceremonial knife to his lips. The marriage is sacred, he thought, recalling the instructions in the white binder. He kissed the blade – a purely personal gesture on his part – and set the knife back down. He met Victor's eyes and saw that the other vampire knew exactly what had just happened.

Victor's mouth curved up on one side. "Very interesting." Eric could see that Sookie wanted to ask what was going on, and he silently begged her not to speak yet. "Then I'll take the tiger's request off the table," Victor continued. He shrugged. "My master was unhappy about the tiger wanting to leave anyway. And, of course, I'll inform my master about your prior claim. We acknowledge your formal attachment to this one," he finished, nodding in Sookie's direction.

"What are you talking about?" Sookie asked.

To Eric's relief, Victor assumed that she was asking about Quinn. "Quinn requested a private meeting with you, but he can't come back to Eric's area without Eric's permission now," Victor explained to her. "It's one of the terms we negotiated when we… when Eric became our new associate."

She frowned. "Does this new rule apply only to Quinn, or to all wereanimals who want to come into Louisiana?" she asked, turning from Victor to Eric. "How could you boss the Weres? And when did you put that rule into effect?"

"Three weeks ago. And the new rule applies only to wereanimals who are associated with us in a business way," he told her. "The tiger got his dismissal from you. I heard it from his own lips. Why should he return?" Surely she didn't want Quinn to return? He knew how she had hated the very sight of Bill after she learned of his betrayal – and Bill hadn't aided an enemy who might kill her.

Sookie was moving her lips as if searching for words, but Victor spoke first. "Now that you and Eric are openly pledged, you certainly won't want to see Quinn, and I'll tell him so."

She turned on Eric, her eyes blazing. "We're what?"

Victor looked positively gleeful, and Eric realized his old friend knew very well that Sookie had no knowledge of what had happened. If there was one thing Victor appreciated, it was a clever maneuver. He was probably also pleased that they would get to keep Sookie in Louisiana instead of sending her off to Nevada to be Felipe's pet.

"The knife," he told her, motioning to the pile of velvet on Eric's desk. "That's its significance. It's a ritual knife handed down over the centuries and used in important ceremonies and sacrifices. It's not the only one of its kind, of course, but it's rare. Now it's only used in marriage rituals." He shot Eric a look of mild amusement. "I'm not sure how Eric came to have possession of it, but its presentation from you to Eric – and his acceptance – can only mean that you and Eric are pledged to each other."

Eric's insides churned with all the conflicting emotions coming from Sookie. Her eyes had grown wider, and her face more stricken with realization, with every word that Victor said. Now she held one hand up and said shakily, "Let's all step back and take a deep breath." She looked at him again, and he could see that she was pleading with him to tell her it wasn't true. "Eric?" she said.

He tried to send her calm and comfort, and he made his voice as gentle as possible. "This is for your protection, dear heart." I did it because I love you, Sookie. Try to understand that.

"This is so…" She paused for a second as her voice caught in her throat. "…high-handed. This is sheer gall." She glanced away for a moment to blink back tears, and then her eyes found his again. "How could you do this without talking to me about it? How could you think I would let you commit me to something without talking about it first? We—we haven't even seen each other in months."

He didn't know what "high-handed" meant, but he got the general idea. It might have placated her to know that he had committed himself to something, not her. The marriage was hers to end whenever she chose. If there was anyone who wanted to commit her to something "without talking about it first," that person was Felilpe. None of this was safe to say in front of Victor.

"I've been a little busy here," he said in a calm, measured tone. "I'd hoped your sense of self-preservation would kick in." He wasn't sure if he could send affection or love through the bond, but he tried. "Can you doubt," he added slowly, "that I want what's best for you?" Can you honestly doubt that?

"I don't doubt that you want what you think is best for me, and I don't doubt that that marches right along with what you think is good for you," she retorted.

Good for me? You think pledging myself to a human, being blood-bonded to a human, is good for me?

"She knows you well, Eric," Victor said with a loud chortle. Eric shot him a look that promised stakes in his near future if he didn't shut the fuck up. "Oops." He raised both hands in a gesture of submission and mimed zipping his lips.

"Eric, I'm going home," Sookie said coldly. "We'll talk about this soon, but I don't know when. I'm running the bar while Sam's gone. There's trouble in his family."

"But Clancy said the announcement went well in Bon Temps."

"Yes, it did," she said, "but at Sam's own family home in Texas, it didn't go so well."

Weres. Texans. Bad enough separately, but together? Always a bad combination. "I did my best to help," he told her. "I sent at least one of my people around to every public venue. I went to watch Alcide himself shift at the Shamrock Casino."

"That went okay?"

"Yes," he said with a careless wave of his hand. "Only a few drunkards acted up. They were quelled quite easily." A flash of fangs, a growl here and there… "One woman even offered herself to Alcide in his wolf form," he added, grinning.

She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Ew." Then she stood up and reached for her coat and purse. It was the cranberry-colored coat he had given her a year ago. He loved the color on her, especially when her cheeks were flushed as they were now.

In a flash, he leapt over his desk and folded her into his arms. If his actions had never been enough to show her that he loved her, he would simply have to be more demonstrative. He didn't care if Victor was watching. He didn't care if the whole fucking state of Nevada decided to have a look. Holding her, inhaling the warm scent of her, was like living again. Sookie didn't return his embrace, so he kept it brief.

He had to ignore every desire and impulse in his body in order to step back from her. Soon, he promised himself. Soon. "Tomorrow night?" he asked her.

"If I can get away. We have a lot to talk about." She looked none too pleased at the prospect. With a curt nod to Victor, she escaped from the office and shut the door.

"Well," said Victor, flashing a self-satisfied smile, "if I ever want to kill you, I know how to do it."

Eric walked back around to his desk chair and sat down heavily. "The same as you would any other vampire. All you need is a stake."

"Fair enough!" Victor laughed. "Fair enough."