Chapter 9: Violet

Godric's home was quickly filled with vampires from all around the area who heard the news that their beloved Sheriff had returned. Eric wandered through conversations, made polite small talk, caught up with some old vampire acquaintances he hadn't seen in decades. Oddly enough, a lot of them had brought their human companions too, but none that seemed to interest Olivia. Eric found himself trying not to want to find her as he drifted through the party, but his eyes scanned every room for her without even thinking about it. Maybe it was her looks, or her scent, or his responsibility to watch over her that drew him in. However, she paid little to no attention to him whatsoever. She seemed completely comfortable chatting up vampires who adorned her like vultures. Most humans would be shaking at the boots, but not her. It was unconventional, to say the least.

His Maker, now showered and wearing fresh clothes, sat quietly on an armchair watching the guests chatter over the traditional Nepalese instrumental music. The lights were dim and comfortable, the fireplaces were warm and vibrant, cheerful conversation filled the room. He had lived parties like this with Godric at least a thousand times in multiple continents, over 7 different centuries but it never got old, not once.

Still, there was something disturbing him. He approached Isabel, who was talking to two humans. Eric stared them down as he approached, making them leave quickly. It was a skill he had mastered so long ago, sometimes he caught himself doing it without realizing it.

"So your girl delivered," Isabel said, not too bothered watching her meal walk away.

"Yeah, not my girl." Eric quickly corrected her while watching Olivia, who was sitting on a plush large ottoman and chatting up three male vampires by the fireplace, giving off a burst of charming and flirtatious laughter. Not the kind she ever gave him, mind you. "Are you going to tell me what you really know about her, or what?"

"That depends…" Isabel pretended to think it over, a big smug smile on her face. "Are you going to tell me what happened between you and Godric all those years ago?" Cheeky, but they both knew the answer would be no.

Before Eric could say anything, a beautiful Asian vampire came up to them with an enticing smile. "I cannot believe Godric was being held hostage by those religious freaks! Just when you think the Christian Church lost its power, they pull something so extraordinarily bold like this. I am so grateful for what you've done, Mr. Northman."

"Mhmm," Eric nodded uninterested, catching a glimpse of Stan Baker across the room, squinting with hatred. Eric got plenty of compliments and wishes of gratitude for locating and freeing their beloved Sherif from multiple guests in Godric's home. Many, he was sure, were Stan's friends. Normally Eric wouldn't indulge in such a dick-licking fest, but he gladly accepted all the praise tonight only because he knew it pissed off Stan so much.

Clearly, the oaf had enough, because he finally approached and said something. "Don't delude yourself, Northman did fuck all. He had his human bitch do all the work. Guess getting his pretty little hands dirty is beneath him these days."

"Don't take yourself so seriously, Stan. No one else does," Eric tapped him on the shoulder and walked away, feeling Stan fume behind him. This was almost as satisfying as punching him in the face, he imagined.

"Stan!" Godric suddenly called out from another room. The mongrel walked over and knelt by the Sheriff's feet. "Did you just refer to Olivia Carson as a bitch?"

Immediately the room fell to a hush. You could hear a pin drop in the house, heads turned, the laughter died, air tensed up. Eric watched Olivia who stood perfectly still, her eyes met his as if looking for a way out - there wasn't one.

"Err… What I meant to say was-"

"Olivia," Godric looked straight at her. "Come here."

Eric watched her quietly walk over, chin up high. She wasn't one to make herself smaller for anyone. He followed Olivia, curious as to what was going to happen next. Sure Stan was mindless and coarse at best, but had he done something wrong enough to warrant trouble? He deeply hoped so, he hadn't seen Godric kill another vampire for such a long time. His kills were always so raw and beautiful. Blink, and you'd miss it.

"Apologize," Godric demanded.

Oh shit.

"What?" Stan scoffed.

"Olivia is my friend and guest and you've insulted her under my roof. Apologize, now."

Oh, this was going to be waaay better than punching Stan in the face. Eric had to bite back his shit-eating grin to not ruin the moment. Stan stood up, and half turned towards her moving slowly and painfully, his squinty eyes were pointed to her feet. Literally, everyone was watching him.

"Sorry ma'am," he muttered with his stupid Texas accent.

"For what exactly?" Olivia asked loud and clear, brows raised and arms crossed. The silence in the room was broken by tiny breaths and gasps, followed by sneers and whispers. She knew exactly what Stan was apologizing for, she just wanted him to explain it in front of the entire party and humiliate himself even further. As if apologizing to a human in front of every vampire who was somebody in these parts wasn't bad enough. She was enjoying it. Magnificent.

"I am sorry for disrespecting you," he grumbled through his teeth.

"Which time?" Stan was also pretty fucking rude to her the night before, but Olivia Carson was not taking any prisoners.

"All the times, ma'am." Stan finally answered. He was borderline shaking in rage.

After the longest 3 seconds of Stan's life, Olivia graciously accepted the apology and Stan B-lined out of the room in absolute shame. Eric was absolutely fucking beaming. Olivia nodded to Godric and also left the room, probably embarrassed by all the party guests still gawking at her. This left Eric and Godric finally alone. At least, the most alone he would probably get.

"You better be careful. People are going to start thinking you have a soft spot for her," Eric wandered closer to Godric, hands behind his back.

"I don't think it's a weakness to treat humans as equals, that's all."

"Say it with a bit more enthusiasm and you can go for Nan Flanagan's gig," Eric joked, but Godric didn't smile. He forgot his Maker didn't have much sense of humour. Eric sat on the edge of the coffee table, facing his Maker directly. "Why did you tell me not to look for you? Did they hurt you in any way? Is the Fellowship dangerous?"

Godric looked away for a moment with pained eyes. "No, they didn't treat me badly. You'd be shocked at how ordinary most of them are."

No, Eric wasn't shocked at it at all - they looked all pretty fucking ordinary. But he didn't believe they were as harmless as they looked. He did research on his own too. "The Fellowship is a cult full of nothing but hatred for us-"

"Let's be honest here, Eric. We kind of deserve it. Vampires have terrorized humans for thousands of years, it's only natural they would hate us."

"Is this why you let them take you? Is this why you didn't fight back?"

"I went willingly."

Eric suddenly felt sick to his stomach. "Well, that was very idiotic of you. Sacrificing yourself wouldn't absolve anything we've done."

"Wouldn't it? Isn't that what God teaches? Forgiveness and sacrifice? Dying for the sins of those you love?"

"Godric, after everything we've lived through together, after everything we've seen…. How can you not see it?"

"See what, my childe?"

"God left a long time ago."

"Hm." A small smirk appeared on his lips. "You sound just like Olivia."

Despite being told otherwise many times by her cousin Tommy, Olivia never considered herself to be a petty person. She always thought it was more like… Hand delivering karma, and sometimes it just had to be done. For balancing out the universe's chaotic energy, you know? But after shattering Stan's pride in front of the whole function, no one else approached her anymore. Everyone was now too scared of offending her in any way in front of Godric. Calling her a bitch out loud was a high bar, but still, she found herself leaning on a hallway facing the least popular side of a double-ended fireplace. What was up with vampires and their obsession with fire-places? They freaking loved it. She swore every vampire she's ever met had one in their house.

"Are we boring you?" A deep voice asked, approaching her.

Eric was now jacket-less. Along with his usual dark jeans, he was wearing a black singlet which showed his perfectly muscular and defined shoulders and arms. They looked exactly like they did in her dreams...

"No, it's just…" She almost got lost in her thoughts. The dreams were so vivid they now felt like memories. Those arms were touching her. Focus for fuck's sake - "Vampire parties are often a bit dull." Eric raised his eyebrows surprised. "It's just a sober party with no food and your music is really weird."

"And the company? I've watched you be swarmed by vampires all night."

"Vampires… Or men in general?"

"I just figured you'd rather spend time with your kind."

"Since when are you concerned about who I spend my time with?"

Eric gave her an evil smile, which she took as a tread lightly sign. "I'm not."

"Besides, most of them are too scared of talking to me after Stan's thing."

"Ah yes, that was by far the most embarrassing thing I've seen in the past 10 years," Eric said, moving a piece of her smooth hair off her face. She shot him a confronting look, disapproving of his tender touch. Olivia was not one for regrets, but vampires were vengeful creatures and more enemies were not what she needed. But tonight, she ended up adding Stan Baker to the list. And if Eric kept up with the touching, she would have to add him too.

"You'd make a terrific vampire," Eric said so quietly he may not even have said it at all.

Olivia was surprised by his words. Coming from him, it was a compliment which was completely foreign and surprising. She was surprised by him, period. Watching him with his Maker, meeting Godric, having him touch her hair softly and express gratitude, it was too… Humanizing. She preferred to think of Eric as the psychopath blood-covered serial killer monster who lurked in that dark basement ready to kill for sport. The one who dragged her around and pinned her against walls bullied her and threatened her in the most intrusive ways imaginable: with his own blood. But the more time she spent with him, the more times she would consequently dream of him… She feared that image would change, and she didn't know what to make of it.

Was it bad to want to only see him as a monster? Maybe. Having a distaste for Eric would make this job easier. They held each other's gaze a little while longer in silence until she pulled away. It was hard to. It was as if her body didn't want to.

"No thanks. I like being alive," she sighed, watching the birch burn and crackle in the fireplace. "Which reminds me, new rule: no more side jobs for you."

"But I thought we were having fun?" The grin he had on his face wasn't sarcastic.

She thought back on this shit-show of a weekend. "No, we really are not."

Eric stiffened for a second, almost as if he were trying to hold back. "We can talk about this later."

"There's nothing to talk about. I am your accountant, not your errand girl, Eric. That's all I'll ever be to you." She told him cooly.

He relaxed and started to slowly roam around her, like a lion eyeing its prey."I thought you were supposed to cover me where I'm vulnerable."

"Where your business is vulnerable. I don't want to do you any more favors."

He slowly got closer, blocking the fire and casting her completely in his cold shadow.

"You think that's what this was? You were doing me a favor?" Eric said quietly in her ear with a smile.

He extended his arm while getting closer still, making her step back. Her back touched the wall Eric leaned his left hand into, surrounding her completely against the wall. She's been here before, between Eric and a wall. It did not go well for her.

His voice dropped deeper, into a deadly whisper. His other hand lightly grazed her arm. "You really think you had a choice in this matter? You think you can just show up at Fangtasia and choose what you want to do when you want to do it? No… That's not how this arrangement works, Olivia."

Olivia's chest tightened feeling her blood go dark and cold again. To anyone watching, they may have looked like a courting couple. Eric the vampire trying to seduce his human accountant, office romance. It was far from it. "So had I said no to helping find Godric?"

With Eric's arm being on the wall above her shoulder, it left him with his torso exposed. She could punch him right in the ribcage with an uppercut, just like her dad taught her. But unfortunately for her, any kind of violence against Eric at a vampire party, in the sheriff's home, in front of his Maker would be the epitome of a bad idea.

"I can be very… Persuasive."

Olivia relaxed her shoulders, not becoming intimidated by his little show. It was all this was, a show. He already gave her his blood, that was his only card and he already played it. Whatever further persuasion he had in mind, surely he would have to think twice about it. "Haven't you learned what happens when you cross me?"

"Maybe I like crossing you," He smirked. He gave her that odd look he sometimes did, the one she couldn't read. It was like, curiosity mixed with hesitation and something else. Reading human emotions was so easy (too easy) that she often wondered if she was lacking some serious body expression reading skills for those she couldn't read. "Why did you come then, if this wasn't a favor?"

"Well, I am billing you for this-"

"Isn't our reigning Queen paying you enough? Salary, benefits, the apartment, the car… Are you perhaps, in trouble and hard for money, is that it?"

"No, I-" her mind was going blank. Her mind never went blank. "I wanted your trust," Olivia confessed.

Eric pulled away, looking smug. "Why do you need it?"

Why did she need it, indeed? Would less pestering and push-back make her job go smoother? Yes. But she was a pro at handling difficult clients and for the kind of job she was up to, Eric Northman was no ordinary client. She needed him to trust her because she was going to start phase 2 of her business plan for Northman & Co. Phase 1 was asset protection which she completed with his offshore shell companies and accounts; phase 2 would be profit maximization, followed by phase 3: all the illegal shit - the tax evasion, embezzlement and laundering, like building an enormous machine and then running it. When you are a criminal first you get the vault, then you build the castle, then you move in (never the other way around). Olivia was going to completely transform Fangtasia, acquire new businesses and PR the ever-living shit of his image with the local business bureau. Eric Northman had to be an asset in this town, not a thorn who got raided by the DEA twice a month.

She was okay with Eric hating her, she knew he probably would even before they even met. But he needed to trust her and allow her to make money and power moves on his behalf. "Because I'm going to build you an Empire."

That made Eric back off. He now leaned on the wall beside her, perfectly muscular arms crossed, looking down and eyeing her still. "I already have one."

The space between them put her more at ease. "It's a sandcastle at low tide."

"Is it?"

"Compared to what I have in mind, yeah."

Eric was thoughtfully quiet for a moment but never took his eyes off her. "What about what I want?"

Irrelevant, but she indulged him anyway. "What do you want Eric?"

"I want-"

Fear entered the house. His thoughts were ear-splitting, hateful and horrible. They are going to burn. All of them. Olivia stood straight, feeling pins and needles all over her skull. There was someone at this party who was going to do something awful and vile. Eric must have picked up on her wavelength because he also pushed himself off the wall and asked with fangs out. "What?"

"There's someone here from the Fellowship-"

Not even a millisecond later the whole room went bright orange. The blast thundered in a wave, hitting her body like a concrete wall. She felt heat and ice and before she knew, she was thrown on the floor. Then everything went black.

Everything hurt and it was hard to breathe. Time passed in slow motion and at hyperspeed all at once. She still couldn't see much other than stars flying, and she wasn't sure those were just in her head. There was a loud ringing in her right ear and distant sounds on her left, of people crying and yelling. She tasted metal in her mouth. She tried to move but there was something way too heavy on top of her - debris, probably from the fireplace. Maybe a piece of the ceiling, or the fireplace.

She started to panic, the air felt distant. What if they didn't find her under the rubble and wreckage in time?

"Eric-" She gasped with the little air she had left in her lungs. "Eric!"

Olivia felt something shuffle on top of her. She realized the pile of wreckage on top of her was Eric. He threw himself on top of her to shield her from the blast. "Eric?" She muttered.

"Yeah?" He groaned, half in pain. He lifted his chest off of her, and she could finally take a full inhale. His arms hooked under her armpit, he held the back of her head with interlaced fingers, to protect her skull from impact. She could see his shiny icy eyes staring at her from up close. He was okay. And that thought felt like a bittersweet relief.

"As I said, no more side hustles for you."

Four dead vampires - including Stan Baker - and three human companions. Plus thousands worth in damage to his Maker's home. That was the extent of the damage created by the suicide bomber who had infiltrated the party. Godric was okay, though.

Apparently, some college jock looking kid just strolled in, right in the middle of the party and blew himself up. Curiously enough, Olivia knew about it seconds before it happened. Eric had the working theory she was a psychic. He had been with one before. It was delightful - for a while. He also got to experience the flash flood of fear in Olivia's blood. It happened quick but it cut deep, unforgiving like a sharp axe. She did have emotions after all. She now sat quietly in the dining room, staring at nothing in particular, deep in thought.

Ambulances and cop cars were parked outside, shining their blue and red lights all across the front of the house. Paramedics tended to the many wounded humans (despite their vampire companions healing them before they even arrived) and the police took witness statements (to pretend to pursue charges later, they didn't give a fuck). All the vampire guests were sent to the Carmilla hotel, and all other vampire businesses in Dallas had been warned to be shut down, in case the Fellowship had more targets. Eric doubted they were that organized though.

Isabel, Godric, Eric and Olivia were the only remaining people inside. Godric looked a bit deflated. Eric would too if someone had invaded the safety of his home and destroyed it, causing harm to his guests who were under his roof. Eric knew the explosion and the deaths, especially the human ones, would complicate things tenfold. He feared his Maker was going through something and this was maybe more than he could handle.

"This wasn't your fault if that's what you're thinking," Eric told him, but Godric didn't respond. He just looked at his destroyed house. There was blood splattered on the walls, from chunks of goo to spray of mist. There was a hole in the ceiling, pink insulation had rained everywhere. Glass was everywhere, a layer of black dust covered everything.

"Obviously not, Northman." Isabel scoffed. Clearly, Godric did not share his heavy conscience with her. "But it won't stop Nan Flanagan from bulldozing this place. She's gonna rip us all new assholes when she gets here."

"The lady from the TV?" Olivia asked. She was sitting far away, but she was paying attention.

"Yeah, this is going to be all over the news and it will be a PR nightmare for the AVL," Isabel explained. "Nan landed half an hour ago, she should arrive soon."

Eric really disliked Nan Flanagan with every fibre of his being. She was the head of the American Vampire League, a lobbyist group who pushed for the Vampire Rights Amendment. She was merely a puppet - in the sense that the Authority had their hands so far up her ass they moved her lips for her. Luckily, it was almost dawn. Whatever Nan Flanagan had to say, it was going to be short. She had to get her facts, and spin her angle before the morning news cycle, then resume the next night.

Eric looked at his psychic friend, sitting in the dining room alone. Her white pristine shirt had soot stains all over it, and her hair was covered in dust. Eric's shirt was ruined too, hence why he didn't wear any, just his leather jacket zipped up to his chest.

They all heard the click-clack of heels approaching from the outside. Just by the pace of it, they knew Nan Flanagan was pissed off even before she walked in the house.

"Alright, dickwads, which one of you is going to explain what the hell is going on here?"

"Nice seeing you too, Nan." Eric greeted, already disliking her tone.

The feeling was mutual. "What the fuck are you doing here? This isn't even your Area-"

"Miss Flanagan," Godric thankfully interrupted because Eric was not going to hold back his tongue, not to her. "Thank you for coming."

"Well, you are not welcome, Godric. Do you have any idea of the absolute fucking nightmare I'm going to have to deal with?" Nan studied the warzone she found herself in with a look of disgust on her face. "I was debriefed on the plane you had gone missing and was found captive at the Fellowship of Sun, is that correct? Please tell me I flew all the way here to nail Steve Newlin down three pegs-"

"No."

"Godric!" Eric hissed. What the fuck was he doing?

"To which part? Were you not taken, not found captive or not at the Fellowship?"

"I went to the Church willingly," Godric told her. The whole room fell silent. Even Nan who always had an answer for everything looked at him confused. "I sought the Revered in hopes to make amends between our kind."

"Oh," Nan seemed happy with his response. "We can use that."

"But you won't."

"You bet your ass I'm going to. We can use your little… Missionary mission to show food faith on our side, and elude there's more to this Church than meets the eye. I have friends at Homeland Security. God, I'm gonna fuck the Newlins so hard-"

"This is wrong!" Godric pleaded. "Humans have suffered enough at our hands, must we blame this on them too?"

"Uhm... Yes?! Everyday vampires are killed by humans with total impunity. We are treated like fucking scum! They hunt us like goddamn animals."

"We are no better," his Maker said, finally raising this voice. "All of this is just the consequence of our own actions. Steven Newlin only hates us so much because Stan killed his father. Don't you get it? If you go after them it will never end."

"I don't give two shits about Stan fucking Baker. Anyone who met him in the past 300 years knew he had a kink for killing humans and yet you kept him around in your nest. Now you bet your fucking ass I'm going after the Newlins."

"There's no proof this was the Fellowship!" He argued. "They are just normal people, not some kind of terrorist organization-"

"Actually," a voice chimed in from the dining room. "I have proof."

Olivia walked in, cell phone in hand.

"Who the fuck are you? Why is there a human here?"

"She's the one who found Godric," Eric told her, making Isabel's eyebrows arch. "What do you have?"

Olivia joined their little circle in the middle of the living room, where there used to be furniture about two hours ago. She pressed some buttons on her phone and a voice recording started playing. It began with her own voice.

"I'm Anne Hess, and I consent to this recording."

"Miss Hess! Welcome!"

"Hello, hi, call me Anne."

"I'm Sarah Newlin, Steven's wife. Are you George's daughter?"

The recording went on and on. It was mostly Olivia kissing ass and the Newlins loving every lick of it. He prayed there was a point to it. Judging by the intense look on Olivia's face, there would be. But then...

"We gather all the vampire monsters we can and hold our Light celebration. We watch our God do what he does best. We watch 'em burn."

"It's right at the Church, last month we had 3 vampires meet the sun, and it was so beautiful! The way they burned right in front of the stained glass window was absolutely magnificent, I swear you can feel God's presence all around you!"

"I would love to…"

"The next one is next weekend, and we only got one vampire so far, but Steve and the boys from Church camp are going to Oklahoma this week for more!"

"Oh yeah, baby! It's open season!"

"Sorry, why Oklahoma?"

"Oh, this one is interesting. You see, vampires organize themselves in these feudal-type systems. They have their own little areas they care of-"

"Right."

"And they watch out for vamps in their own little squares. But if you take vamps from other areas, they just assume they left town."

"For creatures so old, they ain't so clever, are they?"

"And… How do you know if they committed crimes?"

"Oh Anne, don't be silly. They are vampires. They are guilty by their very existence. They aren't God's children and they don't deserve to be here."

"That is truly impressive Mr. and Mrs. Newlin. Wow! I had no idea the Fellowship did… All of this. Does this mean another Church in Oklahoma hunts vampires here? So you keep each other safe?"

"Yes, actually we have two congregations who hunt vampires in Northern Texas. Lord of Light in Texarkana, and Lakemont in Shreveport, though I doubt they ever made it as far as Dallas. They probably get all the vampires they need in Longview or Paris. I think Dallas vampires are a bit out of their league. Marc Sheldon and I were working on a side project to remedy that, with the plane crash and everything."

"What do you mean?"

"Well... I know it's not particularly Kosher, but Sheldon was a skilled private pilot who intended to crash the aircraft at a strategic location, rather than a cornfield. We were going to destroy an entire nest of vamps - the Carmilla hotel-"

Olivia stopped the tape, but no one said anything for a very long time. Eric was a bit shocked at what he had just heard. It was all connected. The pilot, the Church, all of it. They were kidnapping vampires and killing them in public in daylight as some kind of sacrificial ritual to God. And if that weren't enough, they wanted to kill vampires in masses by bombing the Carmilla hotel. The bomb at Godric's was just child's play. He could see the gears spinning in Nan Flanagan's head.

"Holy fucking shit!" She yelped. It was as if she had done a very long line of coke because Nan was wired. She narrowed on Olivia as if she were the last person on earth. "Are you willing to go on the stand and verify this recording in court? Because this is it! This is the nail on their fucking coffin!"

"No, because I rather not commit perjury." Olivia declared.

"This tape is fabricated?!" Nan roared.

"No, because I'm not Anne Hess," Olivia explained calmly. "But I'm sure the real one who works at Hess-Cannon & Associates Chartered Accountants could be easily glamoured into doing so. Neither the Church nor their house has cameras, so even the Newlins claim the woman on the stand is an impostor, it's their word against Anne's, and she's not the one on trial. I'm not a lawyer, but I think your chances of getting them with domestic terrorism are pretty good."

She was fucking brilliant. Olivia had crafted a bomb of her own and signed someone else's name on it. She had gone above and beyond from what he had asked her to do.

What did he want, she asked? Eric Northman wanted her.

A.N.:

What a SPICY chapter! This has been one of my favorites so far ngl. Just Liv doing what Liv does best.

Til next time my lovelies

xoxo