I. Am. Back.

I had fully intended on writing as much as I could while I was away, but apparently I was expected to socialize the entire time I was there! And when I wasn't there, we were road-tripping it across the country, and typing on a laptop in a moving car isn't easy.

However!

I was able to get some writing in, and so I present to you the latest chapter.

Soon I'll be back on schedule, writing like a madman who doesn't know how to take a break.

Even if there's only a handful of you reading. ;)

Wings.

Glorious, snow white angel wings.

Six feet wide, at least. Each.

Softly glowing under the yellow lights that dotted the cemetery.

A triumphant look on Lucifer Morningstar's face. Eric could almost read his thoughts—bet you didn't expect that, Viking.

Truth be told, he hadn't.

"Wings," Eric uttered the single word, his shock conveyed in the single syllable.

"Didn't believe me, did you?" Lucifer asked, a single eyebrow raised and that light, as always, still in his eyes. "This is a constant problem here. No one ever believes me."

"I believed you," Eric defended himself. "I've believed you since you disappeared from my goddamned office. I just didn't think the wings would be so . . ."

Lucifer lit up with a cocky smile. "So big? Yes, they are that, aren't they? Not the only thing, either."

Eric smirked, curious if Lucifer's insinuation was correct. But the amusement was but a distraction and his attention went back to the wings before him. White feathers, some probably over a foot long. He wanted to reach out and touch them. He took a couple steps forward, raising a hand as he met Lucifer's gaze again. "May I?" he asked, gesturing that he wanted to touch a wing.

"Of course, be my guest," Lucifer said, shifting his shoulders blades and moving the wings, almost as if beckoning Eric to him.

Before Eric could change his mind, he moved with lightning quick speed to end up behind Lucifer. "How do you hide them?" he asked. He reached a single finger out to trace a line down Lucifer's backbone, straight between his shoulder blades, not quite daring to touch the softly glowing wings quite just yet. He couldn't decide whether they were glowing on their own or if it was an optical illusion, simply a reflection from the light that hung over the bench they'd been sitting on.

"Angelic powers," Lucifer informed Eric. There was a bitterness in his voice as he said it, and Eric stopped touching him, curious about Lucifer's apparent love-hate relationship with the wings he was sporting. "I've tried to remove them," Lucifer told Eric. "For a while it worked. Until it didn't."

Slowly, not wanting Lucifer to stop talking, Eric reached a hand out to feel the leading edge of one wing. The heat he'd begun to associate with Lucifer's touch greeted his cold palm, surprising him with the intensity. With the heat came a softness that was like nothing he'd ever felt before. The kiss of a warm breeze against his palms; how clouds should feel if you could but reach out and touch them. Beneath that—a great strength. Muscle and bone hid beneath the softness of feathers, far stronger than any bird Eric had ever touched or held in his hands. No hollow bones here. Pure strength, undoubtedly capable of carrying the tall man up into the skies and beyond. These wings weren't for show—they were made for flying.

"I've cut them off at least half a dozen times," Lucifer was saying. "Ever since Caine appeared, they keep bloody coming back." The muscles beneath Eric's fingers tensed and he could clearly imagine the sneer on the other man's face. Lucifer really did carry his heart on his sleeve, it seemed. Every emotion crossed those dark brown eyes, and every muscle in his body reacted to the thoughts racing through his head. With his hand on Lucifer, even on the wing he was speaking about, Eric could feel the man's emotions. Not just through the newly cemented blood bond, but simply through touch. It was as if Lucifer's emotions were sparking the same in Eric, because he felt nervous as he slid a single hand down the length of the long white wing.

Lucifer moved at the touch, wing stretching wide as the man seemed to repress a shiver. Eric enjoyed the idea of his having such a physical effect on him. "What's so wrong with having wings?" Eric asked, sinking his fingers into primary feathers. It was hard not to appreciate the solidness of each feather's quill against the soft, almost silky warmth of the barbs. These feathers, Eric decided, would make a heavenly bedding. He smirked at his own joke before finally stopping his intimate perusal of Lucifer's . . . appendages. To sink into these feathers in bed . . . Now there was something to think about.

"I'm the devil," Lucifer stated as he folded the wings up. Eric stared in shock as the wings simply dissolved into thin air with the rustle of feathers. Nothing left behind—no stray feathers falling to the ground, no holes in the perfect black suit where they'd clearly been protruding from just a second before. Quick as a vampire, Lucifer was facing Eric, a cloudy, introspective look on his face. "The devil's not supposed to have wings, is he? He's supposed to be the stuff of nightmares. Not have white wings that belong on a bloody Pegasus."

"You aren't exactly nightmare material without them either," Eric said wryly.

"Oh, you've not seen my real face, Viking, I promise you that." Lucifer huffed, clearly wanting to stew in his bad mood.

"Your real face?"

Lucifer sighed and waved a single hand. "Of course. My devil face. I can't possibly be good at torture when I look this perfect, can I?"

"Care to show me?" Eric asked, intrigued.

For a moment, he thought Lucifer was in a bad enough mood that he'd do it. Try to terrify the vampire into some sort of submission. Instead, Lucifer shook his head, still introspective. "No, that never seems to go well. I'd much prefer it if you didn't try committing suicide at the sight of my true self."

Eric snorted a dry laugh. "I hardly think that would happen."

"And yet . . ." Lucifer said thoughtfully.

A moment later, his mood had shifted again. He was a kaleidoscope of emotions, this man was. Just a few months ago and Eric wouldn't have been able to stomach it. "Care to go for a flight?" he asked eagerly, and suddenly the wings were back. He reached his hands out, as if beckoning Eric to step into his arms.

How had they gotten from talking about Eric's worries to this? A self-declared devil was asking Eric to take a trip up to the clouds. Hadn't they come here to talk about his 'desire' and to try to come up with ideas on how to solve it? Eric glanced up, seeing the stars shining silently above. Perhaps he was worried about his soul and what would happen to it when he finally met the true death, but a lark above the world sounded easier than continuing to discuss his fucking feelings.

Besides, Lucifer wasn't the only one who had a few tricks up his sleeve.

"Some vampires can fly, you know," Eric informed Lucifer as he backed up a few steps. "Lets see how fast you can go."

Looking skyward again, Eric braced his knees, fisted his hands in concentration and, summoning the power from deep within, hurtled upward as fast as he could. The wind in his hair was similar to careening down the blacktop in the classic Corvette sitting in the parking lot below, except much cooler, and ten times as exhilarating.

Eric's gift to fly was a rare one among vampires, and he'd only developed it when he surpassed the 500 year mark. Godric had been able to fly and he'd passed that trait on to both Eric and his sister Nora Gainesborough. He didn't normally use it to get around—only when he needed to be somewhere quick. Or to get somewhere hard to reach. Just like vampiric speed, he only used it when necessary.

Although sometimes it was nice to enjoy the bird's eye view. Usually above a large city, where he could watch the lights. From above, a place like Houston would look as bright as day from his perspective. It was the cars he enjoyed seeing most, their paths mapped out with headlights. Up here above Bon Temps though, there were only small lights hidden among the darkness of trees, ad a tiny clump of lights that made up the town proper. A lonely dark place to look at in the middle of the night. And yet the damn place kept pulling him back, even when he was trying to put distance between him and the tiny hamlet.

He was too lost in thought to realize that Lucifer had joined him rather quickly. Unlike Eric, whose flying magic mostly involved simply hovering, Lucifer's wings weren't just for show. Eric marvelled at the man hovering next to him, the big wings moving to keep the other man afloat. It looked more natural than a vampire's odd hovering, and he felt pained at the idea that there was something so unnatural about himself that even the devil seemed a better candidate to have a soul.

Lucifer seemed to study Eric in return, and then of all things, tugged at the cuffs of his suit coat. "That's a neat trick you have," he said. "Must make it easier to fly with others. No chance of getting your wings in someone else's face, I suppose."

Eric inclined his head, having not thought about how much space those wings would take up if you were flying with others of your kind. He smirked to himself, wondering how an angel would tackle the idea of having sex in midair. It could not possibly be as simple as using one's vampiric talents to simply hang there above the world. While Eric might have the upper hand at dexterity though, Lucifer certainly looked far more impressive.

And now that they were up above the world with nothing but the stars to give them light, Eric now knew that those beautiful wings really did glow with their own soft, feathery light. With a simple thought, he circled the fallen angel in midair, getting a good look at the strength of the flapping wings. Lucifer tracked him with eyes that seemed to light up red in the night sky, and Eric wondered if it was obvious he was checking the man out. He couldn't help himself.

He was attracted to the other man. His mind had been full of Lucifer throughout the entire day in his coffin and now he was fucking flying with him. He suddenly smiled at Lucifer. A real, genuine smile. No fangs, just pure Eric Northman. The Viking, not the vampire. If Lucifer could see in the dark, he'd notice that it had reached his eyes. Eric, for one split second, found himself delighted.

"Race you?" he asked, wanting to show off just how fast a vampire could fly—and to see if the devil himself could keep up.

"Where to?" Lucifer shot back.

"Back to Shreveport," Eric decided. Driving had been fun; a combination of sweet torture and American muscle car—but the flight could take mere minutes if he used his vampiric powers. But why bother tell Lucifer that when they'd both been standing in front of their Corvettes? He'd wanted that drive through the Louisiana countryside. Now he wanted to show off and see if his powers could compare to that of the devil.

So with barely a thought, he took off—his entire intent to leave the devil behind. Eric raced through the night, the wind up here cold in his hair. If he'd been alive, tears would be streaming from his eyes. He was fast, and he barely moved his body. He simply moved forward through the night, a terror to fill a person's nightmares if they could see him passing through the clouds. He didn't soar like Superman—how stupid would that be? He simply hung in the sky at breakneck speed, almost as if he was standing upright. Bent knees, bent elbows, shoulders crowded close to his ears to help muffle the sound of the air screaming past him.

He did not look behind him; did not see if Lucifer was keeping pace. He zipped through the night sky, tiny blips of light below him whizzing past as he followed the highway back to his bar. When he'd reached Fangtasia he stopped, one second at top speed, the next at a complete standstill. He calculated in his head and determined it had taken about ten minutes. Feeling satisfied with himself, he turned in the air, fully expecting to be alone and to soon see Lucifer's massive wings soaring through the sky as he tried to catch up. Instead, he found the man hovering in front of him, mere feet away.

"How on bloody earth do you do it?" Lucifer asked. "No wings, nothing to propel you forward."

Eric shrugged. "Vampire powers," he said simply.

Lucifer chuckled. "Vampire powers, he says. You are full of wondrous surprises, Viking. What other powers do you have?"

"You'll just have to find out," Eric said, giving Lucifer a flirty grin before flying into the night sky again, heading back the way they came. He was halfway back to Bon Temps when suddenly Lucifer was before him, wings flapping loudly as the man flew backwards at vampiric speed. When Lucifer reached out, wrapping his hands around Eric's biceps, the vampire stopped his forward motion and suddenly he found himself surrounded by the massive wings as Lucifer kept them floating in midair.

"Viking," Lucifer said slowly, his fingers squeezing Eric's arms. "I want to know what else you can do." There was a brief pause and Lucifer closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Please."

It seemed that Lucifer was incredibly interested in vampires. But if he was the devil shouldn't he know about them? What with being the son of god and all, and god apparently making everything? Eric was happy to give answers, but he wanted to ask questions of his own. Perhaps floating above the world in the dark of night probably wasn't the best place to be having this conversation. Even if he was enjoying himself immensely. One couldn't get more private than the middle of the night sky.

"Let's head back to the cemetery, shall we?" Eric asked, admitting to himself that it would be easier to hear and to concentrate while sitting on a bench. The wind did tend to get a bit loud up here, after all. "I'll tell you everything there."

A moment's hesitation showed him just how curious Lucifer was, but he finally got a nod of agreement out of him. But instead of letting Eric go so they could both finish the trip, Lucifer pulled Eric close, spinning him around and draping a single arm around his shoulders. And then Lucifer showed him what real speed was.

If Eric had thought his vampiric speed was fast, he'd been sorely mistaken. And the wind that the damn wings kicked up was horrendous, making a complete mess out of his hair and tossing it in his eyes. How the hell could Lucifer even tell what he was doing? But sure enough, even though Eric was blinded by the entire experience, he soon found himself being gracefully placed on the ground in the exact spot they'd been in before they'd taken to the air.

With a rush of feathers, Lucifer's wings disappeared and he dusted off Eric's shoulders, eyes on the vampire's hair. "Right, where were we?"

"You wanted to know about my vampiric powers?" Eric reminded him.

"Yes, of course. Do tell, my friend." A charming smile urged Eric to acquiesce.

And so he did.