Chapter 71: Volcano Girls

She was thankful her bedroom was empty when she returned. Her face was puffy, and her skin felt tight where the tracks of her tears ran. Olivia hadn't lost it like that since her father had died. The image Eric painted, of him fitting so seamlessly into her life - her real life - was already beyond overwhelming. To live a life without walls, to stop editing parts of herself depending on the company, to live a life without secrets… It was unfathomable. But when she realized that her real dream included having her father alive, and her mother not sick, it was… Like being cursed. She felt foolish, like a child making a wish to star. Like someone had reached into the depths of herself, into the thoughts she wouldn't allow herself to have, and dragged it out of her. Hearing what her soul most deeply wished for wasn't at all like ripping a band-aid. It was having her heart shattered. All that she worked for was for her retirement, but now what? Olivia would never get the life she deeply wanted.

And what did it say about her, that she wished for the impossible when all Eric wanted was… Her?

That she alone was enough?

In the shower, she forced her heart to go numb, and her mind to be still. Olivia couldn't lose it now. She had Eric Northman to save. A whole Vampire Authority to lie to, a Magister to fool and an Inquiry panel to convince they were worth more alive than dead.

Must be Tuesday.

As the shower washed her tears away, she forced her brain to work numbers again. It was what she did best, distracting herself with work so she wouldn't have to deal with the terrors of her personal life. But this felt different. This, she couldn't really run away from. Eric had intertwined to deeply in the mess that was her life. Olivia put on a long black tank top dress, twisted her hair up in a claw clip and reentered her suite, looking eagerly for her laptop. The bed had been made, and the curtains were wide open revealing a gloomy cloudy day.

Eric quietly entered the room as if he were sneaking inside. He wore his regular all-black denim and t-shirt combo, plus a leather jacket. This jacket seemed new - it had this nice quilted detailing on the arms and body. He carefully balanced a tray with one hand, as he closed the door gently behind him.

At first, she thought it was amusing to see him tip-toeing around his own mansion, especially knowing all his vampire guests were dead asleep. She then realized - he was still hiding his daywalking abilities, even from his own human staff. A King, prisoner in his own home.

God, how could she be worth that?

"I brought you breakfast," he put down a wooden tray on the dresser.

Olivia gave him a shy smile, embarrassed at the thought that he may have overheard her cry. But the fear and shame melted away on the first bite of her delicious food (a buttery croissant, fresh fruit and a cappuccino). She tried eating it without looking like a starved animal, but judging by the crumbs she left everywhere, she did not succeed.

"Thanks," she said, sipping her creamy sweet coffee. "Shall we get to work?"

Eric lowered his chin, and his eyes pierced through her as if he could still see the pain burning in her chest. "My dream…"

"It's just a dream. It doesn't mean anything, right?" She reminded him of what he said the night before.

His face hardened as his eyes pierced through her, almost as if he was searching for something. "Right." He said stiffly.

He then reached for his leather-bound notebook on the nightstand while she pulled her laptop out of her suitcase. As she opened an Excel, instant relief relaxed her body, one that she was sure not a lot of people felt from a clean spreadsheet. Eric was certain that if they could bring power to the table, the Authority would be willing to look away from their… Small mishaps.

Olivia was of the belief that money was just about the most powerful thing you could have. Luckily for them - they had it. A shitload of it. In Bit Coin, in offshore accounts, in Real Estate, a few strip malls, Fangtasia, and most importantly in the Casino. Which they could now run as a real and established business, not as a laundering money front since the Authority was now watching. But to cover the Crown's debt they needed more. They needed a fucking miracle.

Eric read out loud the ledger entries of all the money he had lent over the years so she could account all of it, and calculate the accrued interest. Some of the names were familiar, like Sam Merlotte the owner of a bar in Bon Temps where Lafayette worked at. The same Sam she had a one-night stand with that one time, and whose mind she couldn't quite read. But that wasn't the most note-worthy name on the list.

"Wait, you lent money to Patrick Furnan?" Olivia asked confused. "I thought you two hated each other."

"We never sucked each other dicks or anything, but Patrick needing money was actually helpful in making the peace treaty."

Eric was sprawled out diagonally across the bed, while Olivia sat against the headboard, surrounded by down pillows, laptop warming up her thighs.

She ignored his vulgarity. "Why didn't he go to the bank?"

Eric shrugged. "Ironically, he had gambling debt. Supes aren't all that good with money as it turns out."

Olivia glared at him. "Pot… Meet Kettle."

"I'm great with money," he scoffed.

"Right, it was Longshadow who accidentally moved a decimal point over. Or two," she sourly reminded him of his lazy mistake.

"Whatever," he rolled his eyes.

Eric shifted on the bed, flipping pages of the notebook and course-correcting their conversation. "From what I heard, he took the money and opened the Harley Davidson business and he straightened up. He's paid up too, as of four years ago. I doubt he would have tried to go against me if I still held his balls in my pocket."

Olivia perked up and looked at him. Her heart started pumping blood so fast she got a headrush.

"What?" He asked.

"It is so fucking obvious, I'm actually mad I didn't think of this before."

She looked at her laptop, at the rows and rows and rows of people Eric had lent money to on her neat spreadsheet. "Are all these people supes?"

"The vast majority of them, yeah."

Eric sat up, looking down at the notebook which looked so small in his hands, flipping page after page. They weren't even halfway done accounting for the money he had in other people's pockets. She could tell by the glimmer in his eye that he was starting to put it all together himself. When he swore in Swedish, she knew he had gotten it.

She could feel a smile growing from deep inside her. Her mind was spinning out of control, stacking her next moves like a series of dominos. They'd have to draft an entire organization and create an entire board of directors to help Eric run it. There would be countless permits, licenses, and insurance she would have to arrange. They would need a website, servers, and high-end security, plus creating an entire brand. But she could do it because she knew that together, they could do it.

They would just have to convince the Vampire Authority that they were the only ones who could pull it off. But she didn't doubt the Vampire King for a second.

Eric shut the book closed. He looked breathtaking in this grey light, his blue eyes were a different colour altogether. "That sounds like a lot of work."

"It will be-"

"You're not going anywhere, are you?" His eyes pierced through her.

Her heart tightened in her chest, but it wasn't out of sadness. Olivia would never have her dream-perfect life. Her dad would not come back, and her mother would not get better. But Eric was there. He was part of her dream too.

He was real and he loved her.

"No, Eric. I am not."


The bedroom they locked themselves in quickly turned into an explosion of paper as if a filing cabinet had exploded inside it. Olivia made dozens of calls on behalf of Eric since he was supposed to be dead asleep, and each page spread around her was either a scribble of her notes or documents or contracts someone sent. She had to steal the printer out of Eric's office downstairs and set it on the floor next to the nightstand to get everything ready for signatures. Staff didn't even blink an eye as she awkwardly carried the Brother printer up the grand stairs, the power cord dragging behind her. To them, she was just another staff member.

By the end of the day, the dresser was covered with empty dish plates and glasses of juice, water and cups of coffee.

If you could have a day locked in a bedroom alone with Eric Northman, you probably wouldn't spend it working - but there was quite literally nothing she would rather do at that very moment. They were building something massive together. Something no other vampire had ever done. History was being made - his legacy to the world. Unprecedented, untapped raw power.

She barely even noticed the clouds darkening as the sun started to set. It wasn't until the curtains automatically drew open that she paused to look outside. Every room in the palace had the same curtain mechanism, a timer that drew the curtains open and closed aligned with the sun cycle.

This was a play, and the curtains had opened for the third, final act. Vampires had risen, and he was back to being Eric Northman, the King.

Time was up. The Inquisition would happen shortly. Eric looked at her with his marbled face, giving her that menacing look he always had when something was concerning him. "What? You don't think it's enough?"

"I wish we had more time."

There was a real pain in his voice. "What is it?"

He shook his head. "There is no real way to prepare you for the next part. And for that, I am very sorry."

Olivia felt a chill in her stomach. "Sorry for what?"

"The monster I have to become."

There was something about how he said those words that really scared her. "Eric?"

"I want you to remember last night," he whispered. "I want you to know that was the real me."

A soft knock on the door echoed gently in the room. Eric didn't answer - in fact, he didn't even look at it. His eyes remained fixed on her. The door opened softly and Godric walked in, dressed in his sand-coloured tunic and linen pants, with soft leather moccasins. The wide collar of his top showed ancient tattoos across his collarbones. An electric current shocked her bones, rattling her insides. Eric knew it was his Maker who knocked. He was expecting him. Olivia felt cornered, with the rug being pulled out from her under.

"I really wish I could shield you from this, but I can't," Eric said, with a tone of melancholy in his voice she had never heard before.

"Does she know?" Godric asked, walking to the edge of the bed.

Her heart raced in her chest. "Know what?"

"No," Eric finally looked at the boy. "It's best that she acts surprised when I speak at the Inquiry. We should downplay her involvement."

We? The two had spoken about this without her. "Eric, what's going on?"

"If and let's hope you aren't - but if you are summoned to court, you are to play your part as a lowly human, understand?" Godric asked, but it wasn't so much of a question, as it was a demand.

"I know how to pretend to be normal, I've been doing it all my life," Olivia tried not to sound too offended, but her acting skills were off today.

"That's not what I'm speaking to," Godric corrected himself. "But I take it you are fae enough that you can resist a glamour?"

Olivia was so fucking confused. She remembered Eric warning her they were in trouble up on the balcony last night, but was she too drunk to realize they were in actual danger? "Uhm, I - yes."

"Let them," the boy told her. "Succumb to it."

"That's not how it works."

"Pretend then. Remain standing, do as you're told, and you are not to speak unless you are spoken to. Only answer what you are asked, don't look at anyone in the eyes for too long, and do not hold back your fear," Godric continued.

Olivia suddenly got up from the bed, anger rising with her. "What the hell are you talking about? I thought the bank was our way out?"

She may have been too drunk to remember what he said yesterday, but Eric had not said a word about any of this all day. Had he downplayed the seriousness of their situation to his advantage? Or had he wanted another dreamy day in the sun, just like he had the lake?

Olivia thought she was going to be sick. Joy. She couldn't trust it.

Neither vampire moved or spoke. "Eric!" She almost shouted at him, but he said nothing.
"Don't be brave in there, Miss Carson. Jorge Alonso de San Diego is a vicious vampire, and without that edict of protection on your head, he has full licence to hurt you in ways I would rather not watch. If you show an ounce of defiance, you will pay for it," Godric continued.

Eric finally stood, joining his Maker. "We both will."


The Vampire King did not tell her much, other than for the night being she was at the level as Portia as far as the Hierarchy of this Kingdom went. Completely and entirely utilitarian. Disposable. Replaceable. Lowly. She waited in the main hallway, seated on an uncomfortable chair next to palace guards, who stared straight ahead, ignoring her completely.

She was just outside the formal dining room, where she could hear faint voices behind the closed doors, but she couldn't distinguish much of what was being said. It was mostly Eric talking. Poised. Calm. In control.

Which means he was probably lying through his teeth.

Her hands ran the edges of the business plan she had printed merely ten minutes ago, the pages still warm. Her heart was eerily calm. She was getting far too used to this. The only thing that bothered her was Eric asking her to be… Small. Or worse, letting his Maker do so. She wondered why he hadn't said anything about whatever they were scheming all day - but then again, when had he ever? It was almost as if every lovely day they had alone in the sun was followed by dark, cruel awfulness.

As if the Gods had cursed them.

Olivia couldn't help but be angry. Everything about this stupid plan was the opposite of what she stood for. But she had no choice but to go with whatever plan they had concocted, God knows when. Olivia may have spent the better part of the past few years around vampires, but she wasn't stupid to think she knew everything about them. And right now, it felt like she knew nothing about Eric. So, she was going to painfully oblige.

Part of her was scared of how scared she could get if she allowed herself to feel the absolutely insane level of danger she put herself in every night.

The door suddenly swung open. A foreign female voice spoke into the hallway.

"Olivia Carson?"

Olivia stood, eyes wide. At the door, it was the same woman who handed Godric the sword at the Coronation the night before. The beautiful vampiress motioned for her to enter the dining hall. Olivia shuffled her feet, following her inside the grand room. The formal dining hall was long and rectangular, with servant's jib doors and art paintings hung on the left wall, and ceiling-to-floor windows showcasing the backlit gardens outside on the right. In the center was a large mahogany table, long enough to sit well over 20 people. But the room was almost empty, save for the few vampires inside.

Nearest to the door sat Eric at the head of the table with his back to her. On his left, six seats away was Godric - who despite being looking younger than anyone else in the room, never looked so important. Opposite Eric, sitting alone at the very far end was a short woman with beautifully tanned skin. She had dark wavy hair twisted up in a chic bun, bright red lipstick, and wore all black - If it was a dress or a blouse, she could not tell. This mysterious woman seemed to be the only one paying any attention to Olivia, her dark eyes studying her every heartbeat with unnerving curiosity. Olivia quickly looked away, remembering Godric's order to not make eye contact for too long. Don't be seen, don't be heard, she was nothing.

No one else seemed to even notice Olivia or her escort, who looked bored standing next to her. Jorge Alonso was the only other vampire standing. He spoke to the vampires in the room as he leisurely walked towards someone else sitting at the table. Olivia took a double take, her heart almost jumping out of her chest. On the chair across from Godric sat a young man, his back slumped forward. His dark curly hair, pale complexion, and his bony shoulders uncannily reminded her of Tommy, her cousin. His head was resting on a large elegant tureen with his throat slit. The dish was mostly full of dark crimson blood.

There were no thoughts in his head. Dead.

Her breath caught on her throat, gagging her. Her eyes saw nothing but her cousin sitting at this table, and she felt her blood slowly chilling into ice in her veins.

Tommy?

No, it couldn't-

"You can't think of this as a trivial confrontation, not when there is this much money at play," the Magister said.

"Of course not. But murder shouldn't be the answer to all our qualms," said Godric, in the most monotone voice.

Eric shrugged. "It is how things are resolved in the Magister's court, is it not? I just didn't waste His honour's time."

None of the vampires seemed to have noticed Olivia standing there, skin breaking into a cold sweat. A scream muffled in her throat, suffocating her. It can't be. It can't be him, it's impossible. She protected her family from all of this. She never said their names, she never carried pictures, she deleted every text message, and every phone call. She used a PO box for mail. She flew in and out of Louisana with multiple layovers always using fake names, so how?

The dream.

He was there.

He saw everything. Everything-

Eric would have seen all their faces. Her family's house, their address-

"That wasn't your judgement to make-" the Magister bit back.

"The witness, as requested my Lord," the vampiress who brought her inside sighed loudly, as if all of this was purely beneath her.

Sorry for what?

The monster I have to become.

The Magister lifted the man's limp head by grabbing a fistful of his dark hair, while the other used the ladle resting inside the porcelain tureen, to refill his soup bowl. The man's face was different. Wider jaw, a bigger nose. Not Tommy.

Her knees almost buckled from under her.

Jorge Alonson's dead eyes flashed then at her. "You again."

But Olivia was in a distant nightmare, unable to speak or move. Her eyes flashed to Eric, as if demanding answers. The King did not look at her.

"Have you met her before?" The woman at the end of the table asked curiously.

"Yeah, yeah, what's the cow's name - Olive?"

Her senses tried to pull her back to reality. But she found herself afraid to wake up from the nightmare and find herself in a worse one. The dead man's eyes were cold and glossy, looking at nothing in particular. He was no longer a person, just a meal. Reduced to a fleeting dinner amongst monsters. He wasn't her cousin.

But he was someone. Disposable, just like her.

"Yeah, I wrote an edict of protection for her on the behest of the late Queen."

"Why?" The woman asked sharply. "What's so special about this one?"

Olivia was afraid. That's what Eric wanted. Her heart started beating again. That's what Eric wanted. For her to be afraid-

"I'm-" the words died in her mouth.

Eric had chosen this innocent man to be slaughtered because he looked like her cousin. Warmth ran through her veins again. Rage. "I was her accountant," her voice was small and broken.

"And?" Jorge Alonso snapped back.

The last time Olivia had seen this man was at Fangtasia when Pamela was accused of killing her long lost progeny Colin in a strange power move/setup to weaken Eric's position. She remembered the Magister didn't like her all that much.

The question was also loaded.

"Nothing more," she muttered.

She hated this place. She hated this palace, she hated the Queen and just in that very moment, looking at the dead man's glossy empty eyes - she hated Eric too.

"That's not entirely true," Eric chimed in, smirking. Her heart stopped beating altogether. "Olivia is an excellent business analyst and risk manager. Hard to find a competent human nowadays."

The woman at the end of the table devoured Olivia with her hungry eyes, which invoked fire in her veins, making her face hot. Olivia quickly looked down at her shoes, but the empty glare of the dead guest called her.

Eric knew too much about her-

"So good that ask him to sign an edict?" The mysterious woman cocked a brow. "Those are exceedingly rare."

"She also happens to give great head," Eric said point-blank from across the table.

A spark inside her skin turned her body from ice into fire. Her eyes flashed at Eric with a desire to kill him so greatly it took every ounce of strength within her not to do so with words.

She could end this Kingdom, she could end everything right now.

"Did you know about the Queen's blood business?" The magister asked, unbothered by Eric's crassness. He abandoned his soup bowl on the table near the dead man, and suddenly she felt like she might become the evening's second course.

"No," she lied.

"Then you aren't that good of an accountant, are you?"

"I guessed it wasn't legal, but it was not my place to question its source."

"So you admit to laundering money then?" He squinted his dark cold and empty eyes.

Olivia didn't quite know how to answer the question, as she didn't quite understand the rules of this court. "I laundered money long before I worked for vampires. The moral implications never bothered me."

"If you were the Queen's accountant, why did Mr. Northman hold the edict for the past six months?" Godric asked.

"As Mr. Northman said, I specialize in risk management. I find vulnerabilities and clean people's messes. His mess was huge liability," Olivia said without guilt.

If Eric wanted her to be small and afraid, he forgot who the fuck she was.

The Magister's thin grey lips twitched for a split second. She couldn't tell if it was a growl or a wry grin.

"Tell me about his messes. This is a Grand Inquiry after all."

"Looking at each Sherrif's financial statements from the last Curia Regis, I noticed discrepancies in Fangtasia's accounts. Someone in Area 5 was stealing for her late Highness."

The Magister grabbed his skinny long cane and slowly paced around the table, towards Eric. "Who was?"

"His business partner, Longshadow. He embezzled and stole 60 thousand dollars."

The Magister then looked at Eric.

"He was destroyed," the King said loud and clear.

"I was put on assignment to restructure Mr. Northman's portfolio, to make it safer."

"So he could continue selling blood?" The Magister walked closer.

It's best she doesn't know anything.

Olivia wanted to kick both Eric and Godric. She had no idea what version of this story they fucking agreed to tell. "I don't know."

Jorge Alonso tapped his cane louder with each step. "So you had no idea? You've never met any drug dealers? Were you asked to pack vials, move product or make drops?"

Olivia grasped the bundle of papers tighter against her chest, her fingers were dead cold. "No."

"No?" His black eyes were closer. His skin had a decaying grey tone that matched his charcoal suit. His lips and teeth were stained red as if it were wine. "You just laundered cash like an obedient trained monkey?"

All eyes were on her. Eric's, Godric's, the mysterious vampire at the end of the table. Jorge Alonso stepped closer, too close. His skin looked papery and thin, and his breath was rotten. His eyes, two black holes, swallowing her whole.

"I just did my job."

"Has Mr. Northman ever said anything about its source? Has he ever given you any?" Her heart pounded on her chest. "Answer me, you stupid creature!"

"No, he didn't."

His face was close, death looking deeply into her eyes. "Was Mr. Northman aware the money he was laundering for the Queen was sacrilegious blood money?"

Jorge Alonso was trying to glamour her.

Succumb to it, said Godric.

Olivia had faced death on multiple occasions. She had bled her more than her fair share to be standing in that palace, facing the grim reaper himself. Olivia refused to die, she refused to lose. She let go of her shoulders, and her lips parted as her whole face relaxed. But true surrender was impossible, to all but one person. But she could fake it.

She let out a breathy whisper. "Yes."

Eric shot out of his chair, standing ten feet tall at the end of the table.

"Yes?" The Magister's cold raspy voice rumbled right in front of her.

"He found out… When Bill Compton…"

His grey brows pinched together. "What about Bill Compton?"

"Bill Compton was either her business partner or her handler. But he tried to cut the Queen out of their drug business and partner directly with Eric."

"Why?"

"The Queen gambled too much. She was reckless."

Everyone was at the edge of their seats, hanging on to her every word.

"And?"

"Eric killed them both. I saw it."

No one moved. The British woman who escorted her in gasped. "The rumours are true then?"

"That explains the artwork," the woman at the end of the table let out a seductive chuckle.

Jorge Alonso glanced at the mystery lady, breaking the spell. Olivia quickly looked away, at the gardens outside. She never wanted to look at death again. The Magister's focus was quickly back on Olivia. He raised the handle of his cane to her chin, forcibly pushing the rounded bone handle against her jaw, tipping her head up. His cold beady eyes drew her in closer. "Well, well, well. What an interesting detail you left out, Mr. Northman."

"Everyone knows Bill Compton was the Authority's favourite pet. No one likes a puppy killer, even if it's righteous," Eric's voice was deeper and colder.

"And you didn't think of telling me, about the Queen's collusion?"

"Oh, you know, I've been preoccupied with a fucking werewolf war, as you might recall. One, that you offered your unwavering support and the reason why I called you all here tonight."

"What war?" Godric asked, surprise so masterfully added in his voice.

"The wolves broke the peace treaties in my Area. I responded with force, but their numbers have been increasing every week. If we aren't careful, we will lose Area 5, and with it, the Casino. I couldn't spend another second wasting time trying to find evidence of Sophie-Anne's schemes. Quite fucking respectfully, we got bigger fish to fry here ladies and gentlemen. The wolves are outside, ready to blow down the house."

If she hadn't known Eric prior to tonight, she would never have guessed he had been the King for less than a week. He spoke with such natural conviction. Maybe there was a King inside Eric all these centuries.

"That cannot happen," said the mysterious woman. That had gotten her attention.

The Magister spun on his heels, and the cane on her throat moved jagged across her windpipe, making her wince. She took two steps back, trying to fade against the wall and disappear against the wallpaper.

"No war can happen. The bloodshed will attract far too much attention. How many wolves have been killed?" Godric sounded on the verge of anger.

"Nineteen."

"We lost Wisconsin to the wolves, Godric," the Magister crossed the room again. "If we lose Louisiana there would be catastrophic consequences felt across the globe. This Kingdom used to be the vampire capital of the world for centuries. If they take this from us-"

"Alonso with all due respect," Eric sighed. "This piece of shit state hasn't been the capital of fucking anything since that hurricane. Sophie-Anne was more preoccupied throwing parties than rebuilding anything, and as far I as know, the Authority didn't seem too bothered by it."

"And what do you suggest, oh mighty Viking?" Asked the woman.

"I keep the blood money," Eric said with a full chest.

"I should cut your head off for the audacity alone-" Jorge Aloso thundered.

"Quiet," Godric cut him off.

She could swear the window panes trembled at his soft voice. There was no air left in the room. Eric's blue glimmering eyes took everyone in the room hostage.

"The Authority forgives the Crown's debts, and I keep all of the dirty money open a bank. A Vampire bank whose client targets are vampires and supernatural creatures," he said looking straight at her. "I will own everyone, and I make Louisiana our capital again. Not only of this country but of the world."

She didn't have to look at anyone else's reactions. She knew he won.

Eric Northman always did.


When they drove to the dark and deserted airport in silence, he knew she was pissed. Eric was angry too, mostly at how ungrateful Oliva was that she was even fucking alive at that very moment, let alone unharmed. But that was the thing with Olivia, she thought of herself as invincible.

The jet was already taxied already the tarmac, waiting for them. He could see coffins being loaded through the back, presumably with Pamela, Gerald and Felicity inside. Portia spoke with the pilot. They were all here but James, whom Eric sent word for him to stay in New Orleans a little while longer. The two had unfinished business.

Eric turned the car off, and the two watched the Anubis employees prep the plane back to Shreveport as the silence stretched itself through infinity. He looked at her, beautiful even in the dark. But he knew her. He had seen that look in her eye before - rage.

"You shouldn't have done that," she said plainly.

"Done what?" he asked, trying not to start a fight. He didn't know when he'd see her again. "Acted like a heartless dick for five minutes to save your life? You're tougher than that-"

"You shouldn't have used my dream against me," Olivia looked at him as if she could see right through his soul. Because she could. Eric could see through hers too, and it wasn't rage in her eyes, it was pain. He broke her heart.

Eric did it to save her life. Olivia couldn't be the powerful force of nature he fell in love with inside that room, in front of Salome and the Magister. He needed her raw and too scared to say anything anything that alluded to her having any power at all. And that's exactly why he chose that specific servant for dinner. He didn't know who he was, but if the soulwalking was really real, it was worth a shot. Eric wished he could make her understand, but for whatever reason he just couldn't find the words.

"You aren't afraid of vampires, Olivia. I had to make you afraid so you could live-"

"No," she shook her head and opened the car door, stepping out. "You don't get to do that, Eric. You don't get to be cruel and say it was for my benefit."

She slammed the door and walked toward the plane.

Leaving Eric Northman, The Cruel, alone in his Kingdom.

Portia had only asked her if she was okay four times. It was annoying as shit, but all she repeated, over and over again, was that she was just tired. Truth be told, Olivia was exhausted. It was almost morning, she was still hungover, and her entire body was clammy, hot and in need of a shower.

Olivia was in fact so tired, that her brain could barely process much. Even Portia's thoughts were muted, which was a relief for once. She hoped Samuel or Bobby would be waiting for her in Shreveport to take her home, where she could sleep for the rest of the week. Fuck the Bank and the Casino. Olivia wanted to be sedated as a method of vacation.

"Did you have a good time at the ball?" Portia asked.

She too, looked like hell. But there was a giddy smile on her face.

"No, but I see you have."

Portia chuckled, smiling gently. "It was different than I thought it would be."

Olivia really didn't want to know what it was, so she didn't ask. Every bone in her body felt like lead, but Olivia was the type of person who unfortunately never slept on planes. It didn't help that she saw that man, her cousin's look-a-like, sitting at the dining room table every time she closed her eyes.

They landed smoothly and taxied on the runway slowly until it stopped several feet before its usual parking spot inside the hanger. The sun was just rising, painting the sky behind the hanger a light pale blue. The plane door opened, and Portia exited the plane. Olivia rubbed her eyes and mentally cheered her own body to get up from the comfortable leather seat, promising it a shower and unlimited sleep in her bed.

Once she got up, there were voices outside, which was unusual for deplaning. Anubis hired only a few necessary crew members. Looking outside the private plane's window downward, she saw multiple SUVs surrounding them, lights flashing blue and red.

The commotion outside grew, as the pilot's cabin door opened. The co-pilot looked down and out the plane's open door, watching men board inside the private plane.

"Olivia Carson?" A deep voice called out, and the pilot looked straight at her, giving up her location.

Olivia froze in place, as two men in long navy blue jackets entered the cabin and approached her. Police officers.

"You are under arrest."


A.N:

my GOD. That was a freaking marathon for both writing and editing. But, grad school is no joke and has left me with little time for writing. In the meantime, I have started a new story - it's called Harder The Fall. I hope you it ties you over between updates

Until next time!

xoxo