Hours later ...
"How is she? Did she eat?"
Eric didn't immediately answer Frannie as he walked into the living room, where he met her standing anxiously by the antique bassinet; the baby was fast asleep. Eric walked to the window and pulled the curtain aside, peering outside at the dreary fall weather. All the snow had long-ago melted, and Hurricane Stella was in her third hour of intermittent torrential downpours, and there showed no sign of stopping. The rain pouring down in sheets was the perfect invitation to run out the door and keep running. "No," he finally muttered.
She shook her head frustrated before she approached him at the window. Putting her hand on his shoulder, she said, "The sun has just set; it's only been a day. She'll have to eat soon."
He peered down scowling at her for touching him before he forced himself to calm down. He glared back out the window. "And what do we do if she doesn't? You have no idea how stubborn that girl is."
That cut Frannie like a knife. Sure, she hadn't been in Connee's life since she was a little girl, but that didn't mean she didn't love her daughter. "Sadly, she gets that from her mother."
He tried to laugh but couldn't. "What if I take her the baby now?"
"Not a good idea. You know that."
He turned around sharply. "What else am I supposed to do?"
Frannie gave him a comforting smile, although forced. "Just bare with her. You are strong, Eric. She needs someone like you that can—"
"GET ME OUT OF THIS!" Connee screamed at the top of her lungs from upstairs.
While he looked up the stairs fretfully, Frannie looked at the bassinet to see if the baby had woken. A bright flash of lightening made her jump, but Eric stood stone cold dead.
"Maybe I should go up and try—" Before she could finish speaking, Eric was already turning the corner at the top of the stairs.
"Eric, please! Maaawwwwm!"
At the door, he slowly opened the door and looked at Connee. The bed sheet was all twisted; half of it was balled on the bed while the other half was on the floor. Her hair was matted and dirty from being buried in the dirt for three days and bloody streaks streamed on the side of her head from her relentless tears of frustration. And yet she was still the most beautiful creature he had ever seen in more than one thousand years.
"Are you willing to eat now?" He had no idea why he even asked; he already knew the answer.
"Yes, please," she replied sweetly and innocently, giving Eric an alluring smile.
He tried not to show surprise at her answer. She might have been all sweet and lovey dovey, but he grew immediately guarded. "You will eat?"
"Yes Sir."
Oh, no. She's definitely up to something.
"I am not up to anything! I can't do anything because you won't let me!" He'd have to remember to practice keeping his thoughts more to himself, though he had no idea how.
Turning his head toward the hallway, he said softly, "Queen, please bring the human up again." He then walked around the empty twin bed to the bed by the wall, where Connee was no longer thrashing and screaming as she had been when he left her a few minutes earlier, then sat across from her on the bed. "I have no patience for this, Connee, you realize that, don't you?"
"I know, I'm sorry. It's just ... everything is so new."
It's not possible she could do a complete turn around ... is it? "You will get used to it, Connee, but you're not even trying."
A gasp at the door made Eric jump as he turned to see Frannie and Connee's dinner standing in the doorway dumbstruck. "Eric Northman! You didn't even clean her off?" Frannie berated. She huffed then disappeared but returned within seconds with a wet washcloth. "Genie, wait at the top of the stairs, please," she said. The girl left and Frannie went to her daughter's bedside. "Oh, baby, I know you're scared. But newborns are very hard to control."
As Frannie gingerly cleaned her off, she said, "Mom, I'm okay now. Can I take a shower?"
The queen leaned back and scrutinized her face, wearing a pleased smile. "I don't see why not." Frannie quickly removed the cuffs around Connee's ankles.
"Majesty, are you sure that is wise?" Eric stood up cautiously.
"Yes, Eric. She'll be—"
As Frannie spoke, she had just finished unlocking the wrist cuffs when Connee pushed her mother away and bolted for the window. Before Eric could react and Frannie could get back on her feet, Connee already had the window and screen open and jumped onto the window sill.
"Connee! Get back in here!" Frannie demanded.
But her mother's words fell on deaf ears. Connee leapt from the two-story window onto the drenched grass and made a beeline for the forest. Within two steps she was completely wet from the heavy rain hitting her from every side. But it didn't faze her. She was overjoyed at getting out of the bedroom so quickly and ran for all she was worth.
"Oh, hell," Eric grumbled and raced after Connee.
She was quick, that was for sure. He flew out the window after her, but had no trouble finding her. As she reached a darkened corner of the tree line, Eric descended vertically and caught her in his arms.
"No, no, Eric! Please, let me go!" she pleaded.
He didn't even bother replying. Not knowing if it was because he was so pissed at her for escaping, or deceiving him, or simply the fact that she wouldn't eat, he grabbed onto her forearms from behind and pulled her to him. She screamed and cursed and fought him the entire time he went back to the house. He met Frannie at the sliding glass door, where she held the door open for them, and he took her to the living room. Throwing her down hard on the couch, he towered over her.
"Connee, do not even think about doing that again!" All she did was stare up at him, her arms crossed over her chest and smiled wickedly. "You will eat now. And if I have to force it down your throat, so be it! Frannie ..."
The queen met them with the shaking, frightened human female beside her. She had been fed on before, but never with a vicious vampire as Connee appeared to be then.
"Sit down, dear," Frannie said to the girl, who did, but reluctantly. "We will control her. Do not be scared."
Connee tried to squirm up and over the couch, but Eric was well prepared to take her on, then knowing what she was capable of. In a single heartbeat he was behind the couch with Connee's arms beside her head and leaned her forward a little. "On your knees," he said, directing it at the human. The girl did as she was told, and Frannie stood behind her as double enforcement in case Connee decided to bolt again.
"Eat," Eric told Connee firmly.
"You know, all that cold rain hitting my face ... I don't think I'm hungry anymore. Besides, I don't want to."
Eric had had enough. With all the upper body strength he could muster, he held her arms back by her elbows and got a tightly controlled grip of her head. "Oh, I can make you do anything I want you to, little girl," he challenged. "Now shut up and drink!"
Frannie was able to convince the girl that she wouldn't be drained of every single drop of her blood, and she finally leaned forward, tilting her head to one side so that Connee could have easy access to the artery and closed her eyes. Which was a good thing, because Connee barred her short, fresh vampire teeth, opened her mouth and sunk her fangs into the girl's neck immediately. Growling from the back of the throat, the hunger that had built up inside Connee grew feverishly, and she fed more slowly and gentler. Eric no longer needed as much strength to control her. Within minutes, the girl began to slump her shoulders.
"Love, that's enough," Frannie said softly.
Connee immediately removed her fangs from the girl's flesh but didn't retract them. She felt the warm, thick blood trace down her chin, and although she was still hungry, she felt completely defeated. "Okay, you can let me go now," she said quietly but full of pretense.
"Oh, I don't think so," Eric replied. In one swoop, he picked her up from the couch and hurried her back upstairs to the bedroom.
"Damn it!" she screamed as he threw her back on the bed. "I've eaten. I'm okay now."
"You are far from okay," he said as he quickly fastened the cuffs around her ankles and wrists again. "Your behavior leaves me no choice." Standing with his hands on his hips, he told her, "Until you can prove to us you are capable of behaving somewhat civil, you will stay right where you are!"
"Do you really think these damned things will keep me strapped in here?" she asked maliciously.
"Yes, I do. You may be Bintaur, but your strength is far from being able to escape."
"No, Eric, Master, please!" she begged.
Without a word, he turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.
"ERIC! Don't do this!"
Just before the sun was to rise over the horizon, Eric slowly and as quietly as he could opened the bedroom door. He smiled when he saw Connee fast asleep, but he knew she would be by that time. Silently gliding to her bedside, he carefully and gently removed the ankle and wrist cuffs before he slid into bed beside her, pulled her still body into his arms and held her tightly as they slept.
At dusk, with a still-sleeping Connee, he gave her a good evening kiss, put the cuffs right back on her and left her alone for the night with no food whatsoever.
And it killed him. He had argued with Frannie to allow her to feed, but she'd always pull rank. She insisted it would weaken her, therefore, it would make her come around quicker. He never understood the logic of that.
The second night just after Connee woke up and Eric came to check up on her, she acted all sweet and innocent, another lame attempt at freedom. He so badly wanted to know he could trust her, and the only way he'd find out was if he did release her. Bad mistake. She bolted from the bed. As fast as she was then, he was one step ahead of her; he would always catch her and tie her back down on the bed.
The third night she put on her sexual charm, which had always worked with him before. She thought he'd go for tying him down and allow her to Domme him, but of course he didn't fall for that. So she did the next best thing. After he finally broke down and freed her, she attacked him and threw him on the bed, straddled his waist and ground her crotch against his. When he couldn't resist her kiss, she slid her body down, slowly unbuttoned his jeans and took his hard penis in her hand. When he smiled wantingly at her, she immediately jumped off the bed and made a beeline for the bedroom door, threw it open and ran directly into Frannie, who had been standing right at the other side of the door anticipating her escape. Kicking and screaming, both Frannie and Eric dragged her back to the bed where he tied her back down, gave her a death glare, and left her alone again.
The beginning of the fourth night, however, took a definite turn. Eric replaced the cuffs on Connee's ankles and wrists while she remained asleep, kissed her softly on the forehead and walked toward to door.
Just as he reached the door knob, he heard, "Eric?" He paused without turning to look at her, dreading to hear what her next little scheme would be to free herself. "You win."
He then turned to look at her, his eyebrows furrowed deeply in suspicion, wondering what her next bound-to-fail escape plan was going to be. He wanted to trust her, he really did. But he knew Connee was aware of his weak spots, and he didn't dare give her another opportunity to outsmart him. "What?" he snapped.
Without looking at him, she said, "I'm done."
Still skeptical, he shook his head. "Do you really think I'll fall for that? How stupid do you think I am?" He didn't want an answer.
"I want my life back. I want you back. I want us back." Her voice cracked, and it did sound genuine. "It's just because I was afraid for the baby, but not from you, from me."
"I don't understand."
She stared up at the ceiling, her body limp and totally resigned. "I remember when I held him right after he was born, something savage ripped through me. I smelled his blood, felt it, heard it surging through his veins. Then I had a nightmare. He was crying to be fed, and I saw ... I saw myself holding him in my arms and ... I was ... Feeding. Off. Him." Bloody tears fell from the corners of her eyes.
Then he understood why she was so frightened and acting out. He sat down beside her on the bed and put his hand on her shoulder tentatively.
"I couldn't control the ... hunger for him. I didn't want to hold him, couldn't stand to hear him cry. I wanted him to stop crying, not from his hunger, but for mine."
Eric fought back tears. He stood, loosened and removed the restraints then sat back down. She did not move. "I do not know how I would have been with him if I wasn't prepared, and without guidance from the queen. She can help you through this. Love, I have held him and fed him every night since he was born."
"Blood, from you?"
"No. It is milk from a bottle. He's shown no behavior to the queen that he requires blood."
"And ... you didn't have the desire to—"
"Oh, god, no! That little man has brought life back to me, after you, of course. It was the best feeling in the world giving life instead of taking it." She slowly turned her head to look at him for the first time. "I never told you, but I was married, after my family was taken. I was on a personal journey to make my father proud of me. I had seven children, though none survived to adulthood. I cared for them. I loved them. But they were all gone, like everyone else I loved, and I had to leave. I became nothing but a savage." He ran his hand through his hair. "Yes, things are different now, but he's my ... our miracle. And I wish no harm toward him."
Connee buried her face in his chest and cried for several minutes, her whole body shaking as she held onto him tightly. He held onto her tighter than he'd ever remember doing so. He softly whispered into her ear.
"Eric, I love you so much."
"I love you, too, and so does Junior."
"Tell me you did not name him Junior!"
He replied seriously, "Yes, I did." Then he smiled. "Of course I didn't. I don't want him to be a thing like me."
She sat up and leaned against him. "Oh, I hope he does grow up to be like you. You're not all that bad," she said with a smirk. The expression on her face changed to that of contemplation. "Um, you know? We could maybe do something with these restraints."
"No. You need a bath before I even touch you," he said playfully.
"Well," she replied, "I could tie you down and—"
"Wait a minute! Aren't I your Master?"
"I can take a shower in ten seconds. You know how fast I am now."
"No, absolutely not."
She leaned forward and kissed him, running her hand slowly up his thigh, knowing that was all she'd need for him to change his mind. When they broke their kiss she said, "I'm okay, love, really." The tips of her fingers brushed against the bulge of his crotch.
"Well, the queen is downstairs with the baby now. You have an hour to do with me as you wish."
Without saying a word they stood, Eric quickly removed his jeans and t-shirt and jumped on the bed on his back. Connee looked up and down his body like she was about to eat him then slowly and seductively secured all four restraints. She then stepped back and removed her tattered and filthy nightgown. "Don't go anywhere, slave," she warned as she walked out of the room wearing an evil, manipulating grin on her face.
After closing the door behind her she leaned against the door to think of her next move. Being that she had been in the house for such a long time, she was very familiar with the layout and knew of the secret passages. Listening very intently for voices within the house to determine where everyone was, she heard several noises downstairs in the living room.
Coast was clear.
She really wanted and needed to feed first, but there was no time for that, regardless of how tired she'd become. She headed for the bathroom first, rinsed off her face without even looking in the mirror, grabbed the full-length cotton robe from the back of the door and went to the bedroom across from her mother's. She quickly went to the clothing curio cabinet, opened the door, pushed the plastic-covered dresses aside and stepped in. She snickered, being that 'The Witch and the Wardrobe' was one of her favorite childhood books.
At the back she slid the thin wooden paneling aside and stepped through it, feeling with her foot the small step before she'd step to the next. It was a spiral staircase with no lighting, but she didn't really need any. She proceeded to take exactly six stairs that led down, then twenty-four flat steps to another four stairs down to the hidden door in the library, which was on the other side of the house.
When she got to the library door, she slowly and quietly slid it open, stepped through a small plain cabinet and opened the door. Listening for voices again, there were none. So she stepped out of the cabinet and headed straight for the opened sliding glass on the opposite side of the room.
She made it four steps before a force hit her in the back, square between her shoulders, which sent her flying against a wall of books. As she crumbled to the floor several books fell on top of her. They settled around her and she looked around in shock, wondering who attacked her.
"It was me that you attacked you," said Frannie, who was then standing over her, her hands on her hips, looking angrier than any mother could be. "Do you honestly think I'm that stupid, Leigh?" she spat maliciously, knowing Connee hated that name.
"Sadly, she thinks I'm the stupid one," Eric said as he walked into the room and stood beside Frannie, his arms behind his back.
"How the hell did you know where I was?!"
"Did you forget I can read thoughts? Eric warned me you hadn't come back from the bathroom quickly enough. I figured I knew where you were."
Frannie gruffly and carelessly pulled Connee up from the floor and pulled her arms behind her. With gloved hands, Eric brought forward a chain of thin silver, placed it around her neck, twisted it in the back and brought the two ends two feet between them. At that instant her flesh started to burn, and he turned his head to avoid the smell, but it was no use.
"Oh, god!" Connee wailed, reaching up and trying to tear the chain from her neck, which only elicited more screams as the palms of her hands began to sear and smoke.
She tried to struggle and break away from him, but he was stronger. Because he was filled with such anger and disappointment in her, he would take none of her behavior any longer. He threw her against the bookshelf hard, forcing books to shake and a few more fell to the floor. "I don't give a flying fuck how much pain you are in, Ms. Byers," he spat, his voice filled with rage.
"Eric, enough," Frannie warned. "Come with me."
"No, no! I am—oh, shit! Eric, don't let her do this to me! Please!" Tears rolled down her face, which met with blood that had already been coming from her ears and nose.
"Oh, she's not the one that's doing this to you. You are doing it to yourself."
He promptly took a step back, grabbed her by the waist and once again threw her over his shoulder. At first she struggled further, but by the time they reached the door she had grown too weak to continue. But that didn't stop the string of curse words spurting from her mouth.
Frannie led Eric and Connee to the basement level, but in the opposite direction of where the Dr.'s office and exam room were. They turned a few corners then Frannie stopped at a door, pressed in a few numbers on a key lock panel, and the door swung open. As they walked in the room, Eric hesitated. It was a fairly small room, two chairs set in a corner with a side table, and most disturbing, in the center of a room was a cage. It was bigger than the one he was held captive in, but no less confining, as the bars were silver. There was nothing inside the cage at all, only a cold, concrete floor. His attention was diverted back to the present when a moan came from behind him, and he remembered who he had draped over his shoulder.
"Place her inside, please, and you can remove the chain," Frannie told him.
He proceeded to walk into the cage, placed Connee on the floor then stood, looking her over. She never opened her eyes as she balled into the fetal position, whining and groaning in pain, her flesh sizzled and smoked. Quickly he removed the chain and threw it to the side.
"Eric, leave her be to calm down," Frannie told him.
He looked at her incredulously, surprised at the coldness and callousness that her voice portrayed. "Majesty, we can't—"
"I'd move your foot if I were you," Frannie warned.
"What?" He looked down at Connee, who was about to grab onto his ankle, her mouth open, her fangs an inch away from his foot.
Without thinking what he was doing, Eric threw his leg out hard and quick, the toes of his foot hitting her directly under her chin, sending her head back, her body following. She flew back three feet until the metal bars stopped her progress. More screams erupted from Connee as untouched skin seared from the new burning flesh. She pushed herself forward, only to land far enough away that she was no longer touching the bars.
Eric was about to reach down for her, only wanting to comfort her and take away her pain, but Frannie rushed into the cage, grabbed him by his shoulders and dragged him out, with him protesting the entire way. The cage's silver door slammed shut and automatically locked.
"Majesty! She's hurt!"
"Eric, let's leave her for now. We'll come back. She needs time alone."
"With all due respect, no."
The smallest curl of a smile rose on Frannie's lips, and she shook her head. "Mr. Northman, you are just as stubborn as my daughter. Please, you have to trust me."
"Eric, Master, please help me," Connee whined, so softly he wasn't sure if she'd actually spoken.
But he had heard her. He turned to look at her, and his shoulders slumped when he saw her body crumbled in a ball like some helpless, injured animal. In a way she was, and so was he. He died inside, wishing for an instant that he could end it all, meet his final and true death, just leave his heart behind. But Connee, his Connee, had given him his heart back. He would fight to keep it.
"I am, Connee. I am," he replied as he turned and raced out of the room. Then he was gone.
Connee's body shook from his words. "Mom, I'm sorry. Please, I'll behave. I'm sorry," she cried.
"Oh, baby. I'm sorry, too," Frannie answered.
She then walked out of the room, locking the door behind her. She didn't even look in the large peephole for one last look at her daughter. She simply turned and walked away.