Drop Dead, Gorgeous.

Disclaimer : Drop Dead, Gorgeous, is a piece of fanfiction modeled from Charlaine's Harris's Southern Vampire Mystery Series starring Sookie Stackhouse with a few liberties taken from TrueBlood, a show based off the same books. All recognizable places and characters belong to C.H. As a reminder, I earn no money from this fanfiction.

Summary : Sloan Stackhouse is a small-time cocktail waitress in small-town Louisiana. She's got a small circle of friends. Not because she isn't nice, she is. But she's got more than just a secret, she has a gift. She can read minds. And it's hard to maintain friendships when you know all the deep and dark thoughts of everyone around you. But then along comes the Revelation, and now she's found a group of people who she can't hear, Vampires. At first, they're a drive away at a bar she accompanies Lafayette to.

But then she gets a new neighbor, Bill, and he's vampire too. He's tall, dark, and handsome but hangs with a crowd with a bad reputation. And when a string of murders begins to rock the town, there's no telling who is next…

Author's Note: Not sure if I skipped a chapter when I initially posted or when I had spell checked and reuploaded. In either case I had things to fix but no story information has changed this chapter. Reviews and Criticism are appreciated. Ideas early enough could effect outcome.

[Prologue]

"You lookin' good, girl!" called Lafayette enthusiastically. "Where you get that dress?" He leaned against the door frame and gave me a flirty look from under magenta lashes.

I spun around on his front step, hands on the edge of the skirt to keep it down, "This old thang? I've had it forever," I said mockingly, and he laughed.

Lafayette was fun, despite – or because of- his difficulties, he was cheerful & entertainingly mischievous. We'd known each other through Tara for a good while, but we didn't really become friends until I'd started waitressing at Merlotte's Bar & Grill where he cooked. Lafayette had flourished after he emancipated (today's word of the day, thank you Gran!) from his parent's home during high school and embraced himself. He was Bon Temp's only openly gay man of color which was doubly hard as neither group was very welcome in the South. Coming out was hard to do here. In fact, I hadn't really done it yet. Well, outside my immediate family and very few friends.

As we walked back to my car, a new-to-me yellow Honda Civic, I cut him a look with a grin, "I see you." Lafayette had dressed for the occasion; a silky looking short sleeve shirt with a beautiful feather pattern in gold that matched the shimmer above his eyes. His lips gleamed even in the low light of the car as I started it up and he winked one thick lash at me,

"You know how I do." The light skin of his palm flicked back the long gauzy fabric that drifted down from his head. No matter where we went, Lafayette drew attention with his strong physique and flamboyant clothes. He knew it, and he loved it. I was hoping some of that would rub off on me tonight.

The dress I'd picked out had been with that in mind. It had been in the back of my closet, almost forgotten. I'd bought it with a date in mind that never came to pass, but it still fit. It was cut square and low in the neck and it was sleeveless. It was tight, and white. The fabric was thinly scattered with bright red flowers with long green stems. I wore red enamel earrings and red high-heeled screw me shoes. It was a Nice-Date dress, if you wanted the personal interest of whoever was your escort. Lafayette wasn't going to pay me that kind of attention, but if I didn't break this out now, I doubted I ever would. The smile Gran had worn when she saw me had dismissed any insecurities I'd had.

The drive to Shreveport was mostly gossip about work with intermittent breaks to enjoy a few choice songs on the radio.

Fangtasia, the vampire bar, was located in a suburban shopping area of Shreveport, close to a Sam's and a Toys "R" Us. Both were closed at this time of night, everything was. Only the neon lettering above the red door indicated the bar was open. Parking, I looked over at Lafayette, "Midnight?"

Lafayette rolled his eyes, and thought directly Girl.. straight at me. I flashed him a grin and up to the grey painted building we went. See that's another thing I don't worry about with Lafayette. My ability. I'm a telepath, but most people just say I'm crazy. Not Lafayette though.

I would have known the woman at the door was a vampire even if she weren't screening people outside a vampire bar. Her skin, chalky white, glowed. I wondered if they appeared this way to everyone and glanced at Lafayette. If he noticed, he didn't react. By the time we reached her she was asking for our IDs and scrutinized us both. Lafayette didn't shrink under her intense gaze but I felt picked apart as she scanned me intently. She looked like she wanted to eat me. Maybe she did. I knew it was rude to pry, but if it concerned our safety I felt it was justified. I loosened my guard and-

I almost erred in an unimaginable way. Thankfully, Lafayette stopped me by grabbing my hand as I had moved to reach out. Are you crazy! You can't go touchin' one of them.

I could hear Lafayette beside me clear as day. The patrons inside the bar were a chorus of mixed thoughts, all relatively close together: sex, vanity, sex, envy, sex. And in front of me, nothing. I was shocked. I was giddy. I had to maintain my concentration all day to keep the voices out of my head, and here was someone whose mind was cool as glass. It was like gazing into a mirror and nothing looking back.

I'm sure I stood there like an idiot for a minute before Lafayette coughed and nudged me, "Suga, your ID?"

I blinked, and plastered on a bright smile, and hurriedly pulled my ID from my dress, "I just haven't been carded in years." Normally this was when I'd be able to share a moment with another girl about having pockets. But this wasn't her thing.

"I can no longer tell human ages, and we must be very careful we serve no minors." She looked over Lafayette's ID, but much more quickly, and smiled at me, "In any capacity." Then she nodded and stepped aside.

"YOU'RE NEVER GONNA GET ANYWHERE IF YOU DON'T PLAY THE GAME, SUGA." Lafayette's voice was lost under the music for a moment as we stepped into the bar's interior. Everything was in grey, black, and red. The walls paid homage to every vampire who had shown fangs on the silver screen from the famous to the obscure. The lighting was dim, casting a shadow over my well-earned tan.

In close proximity to the crowds, I shielded myself again, placing a buffer between myself and the thoughts that poured out of the club's guests. It wasn't perfect, and was taxing, but it was the only way I could spend time out around so many people and there were a lot of people. I refused to let myself be a shut in. The bar was full. The human clients were divided among vampire groupies and tourist. The tourists were the same as everywhere, if in a more adventurous location than most, and wore all black. The groupies were costumed in their own impression of "vampire". Some had capes and others fake fangs. Even a few had painted themselves with trickles of blood. At least, I hope it was paint.

No matter what side of the divide they fell into, they were enamored with the vampires strewn amongst them. Even without sensing their thoughts, which I checked – it was not just the female greeter at the door, they were all blissfully silent, I could find them by their faint glow. In total there were fourteen peppered amongst the crowd like fine jewels, with two looking over the crowd from a raised platform stage of sorts.

We strolled through scattered tables to the bar. It was the only bar I'd ever seen that had a case of warmed bottled blood on display. Even if we got a vampire clientele of our own, I couldn't see Sam doing the same. Sam was open minded about Vampire Equality, but I didn't think he was that open. The bartender smiled at me, his fangs running out. I didn't know how to take that, and fought from looking at Lafayette who just smiled as he leaned in and requested himself a sangria. Lafayette wore his confidence like armor, even on the inside. I wasn't about to lean over, but I did order myself a gin and tonic.

"Of course, beautiful woman." Smiling once again. He was an American Indian, with long coal black straight hair and craggy nose, and a whippy build. He made my drink first and was done before I could blink. When I blinked again in surprise, he grinned wide. I preferred it when he didn't. I thanked him, and made sure to tip. I didn't want to stiff anyone here.

Lafayette took his drink and sipped, nails clicking against the glass in quick succession as he scoped out the people dancing through the club. I didn't get the impression that anyone here was interested in other humans, but that wasn't going to stop Lafayette. He caught the eye of a young man with hair dyed silver and thin chains along his neck. Lafayette smirked into his drink, gave me a look and a rush of emotion, and was gone. I finished off my drink in two large gulps, and braced myself for the evening.

The music was faster than what most bars would play, electronic. It might explain why only the vampires were dancing, twisting in a way that was hard to follow. Only a few humans were on the floor, among them Lafayette and his companion, not one of them moved so well as the vampires they'd come to see.

"Another, beautiful woman?"

I turned to face the bartender. His nostrils flared minutely. Could vampires get colds? "Yes, please."

This time he made it at a normal pace, pouring it into a fresh glass. "Your friend is unwise to leave you unattended." He slid the glass over to me, my arm prickling, "Unless, you are looking to get lost here."

There were laws against vampires killing humans and feeding on the unwilling. There were signs underscoring this, even behind the bar: "No biting on premises" was one, but parallel there was another that said, "Your patronage is appreciated. Proceed at your own risk."

It seemed he was waiting for a response, his head bowed forward, eyes meeting mine. If he was trying to unnerve me it was working. I could feel a slight pressure of concern forming above my eyebrows. I frowned, "No, but thank you for your concern."

Suddenly the Native American – Vampire American, which takes precedent? – was closer and I felt a sudden increase to the pressure suddenly tingling against my mind, "You smell divine." His mouth opened in a crooked grin, teeth running out, "You would like to meet me outside for a break."

"No thank you," I retreated, breaking our eye contact and hopping off the bar stool. The tingling sensation stopped immediately and I became suspicious. I paid the same as I had for the last drink, and headed to one of the few booths. I felt his dark eyes on me all the way to my seat.

Over the next hour I felt a peppering of pressure on my mind as I sipped my drink. Every time I glanced over at the bar, the man was busy serving. Only once did I catch him looking, and at the time he was standing perfectly still beside the female vampire who had greeted us at the door, her eyes followed his gaze to me. I hadn't appreciated it before, but she really was beautiful. If I had to guess, she had become vampire in her late teens, early twenties.

The party line was that vampires were merely people who had contracted a virus that made them allergic to sunlight, affected their dietary needs, and put them in a sort of stasis at the time of their death. I called bullshit, Gran forgive me. I could believe the first two, but as soon as they tried touting immortality I couldn't continue to buy in. Still, I didn't know any vampires personally, so I wasn't going to pass judgement on them. Plenty of people had done that to me and I was human.

I was lost in thought a moment and the woman was gone from beside the bartender. He was doing… whatever it was he was trying to do to my mind and I finished my drink quickly and slipped out of the booth to find Lafayette. I felt a hand slide down my arm, the cool touch causing goosebumps in it's wake and I turned to find myself face to face with the beautiful woman the bartender had been standing with.

"Love the dress," She said with a slight accent. Her round face and sweet features would have done credit to a milkmaid. I floundered internally.

"Thank you, yours too." She was in a bodycon dress the color of bubblegum with heels to match. In between the dress and pumps she had legs I was envious of and I'm not unattractive. I'm blond and blue-eyed and have a face younger than my age. But standing side by side I felt second to her. Which was fine, so long as I could look at her.

"I understand our bartender has offended you," she was leading me somewhere, but I was focusing on her lips. "I wanted to apologize on his behalf. We at Fantasia want all our customers to feel welcome. Especially the beautiful ones." She took a breath and smiled wider like she had noticed something pleasing.

Her accent was European I realized, but I'd seen enough movies to know that wasn't all there was. "He was trying to do something to me, what was it?" I asked. I don't know why I thought she'd answer.

Her eyes were dark blue and lined lightly. The whites of her eyes were incredibly so. When she looked at me, I couldn't tell what she was thinking. It was novel and unsettling. Her eyes widened slightly as she spoke, and I had that same feeling again, little tweaks lighting up over my brain. "He was hitting on you. It wasn't welcome, and you didn't appreciate it."

I stopped walking and found we had been heading to the back of the club, somewhere beyond the bar. The music was a little quieter here, and she stopped with me, frowning. "You're trying it to." I accused.

Her face lost it's sweetness and became sharper, "You're different." This was less than pleasing to her and she folded her arms in front of her, "Ok. What are you?" She seemed to be going through a list of options in her head. For once, I wondered at them.

"My name is Sloan, and I'm a waitress." I answered. I figured I could get her name, "And you?"

She rolled her eyes, shaking pin straight hair over her shoulder. Again I felt envious, it was sill smooth and straight when it settled. "Pam, vampire. Don't be smart with me, you won't like it."

I shrugged, "That's all I got."

Annoyed, she pursed her lips at me and looked me over again. I would have blushed if her gaze hadn't been so… businesslike, "Fine. Well, Longshadow won't bother you again. I'll see to it, if you don't comment on it to anyone." I nodded and she studied me a while longer before giving me another look, this one unmistakable, "You know… not many women would turn down time with Long Shadow. He is… very sought after."

"I'm sure he is." I had that scrutinized feeling again, like I was being considered on a scale of edible to scrumptious.

"And is there anyone else, you may have noticed?"

NEW ORLEANS

"MY QUEEN?" Just under six foot, a dark-haired man stood in front of an elegant young woman adorned in silk, her hair strung up into a bundle of loose curls. Behind her stood another youth, more boy than man, armed with a gun, who followed his every movement.

"Mr. Compton," she returned the bow, her head moving just barely, given her station above him. "I have need of your services."

Mr. Compton stood at parade rest as his Queen outlined her request. It sounded like a snape hunt. A telepath? Surely they would have heard from someone other than her human lover – child now, he reminded himself. He kept these doubts to himself and instead focused on strategy, "The town was very small when I was in residence, I do not expect it has grown. They may not take my appearance well."

The queen's guard stepped around her and Mr. Compton watched him as he reached forward to pick up a dossier, pulling out a newspaper clipping for him and setting it on top, "Your ancestral home has recently been turned over to the state. It is your right to claim it." So tidy, gift wrapped.

Mr. Compton absorbed his relative's passing (no doubt which had been arranged,) and took the packet containing the clipping and additional notes. "I will prepare to leave at once." He bowed to the guard, "Andre." And then to his queen again, "My Queen."