Chapter 44: Spellbound

Olivia went to Fangtasia early to meet Pamela on the eve of a business deal that would change everyone's life forever.

And it wasn't a dramatic statement just for the sake of it - she could feel it, a hum in her chest, that told her once this started, once Pamela acquired this kind of power, there would be no stopping her. Heading inside, Olivia felt uneasy. The thought of being alone with the vampire gave her the creeps, filled her nervousness, but not the kind her Maker elicited. Taking a deep breath, she tried to push it all to the back of her mind. If this Casino deal went through, the two of them were going to spend a lot more time together so she better get used to it.

The sound of dancers getting ready echoed down the hall from the change room as usual, and walls vibrated the soundcheck tests from the main club floor. Tonight they were having a guest DJ, some up-and-coming guy from New Orleans. Any excuse to raise the cover charge, really.

When Olivia arrived in the office she encountered the biggest bouquet of flowers she had ever seen sitting on Eric's desk. It was a mix of delicate flowers, some roses, and dainty luscious greenery inside a beautiful crystal vase. The whole arrangement sat centered on Eric's desk, looking magnificent and 6 inches taller than her. Olivia's chest tightened as she reached for the tiny white card embedded in the middle of the roses. Four little words were etched on the thick card paper, embossed in gold.

Take care of him.

Before she could make sense of it Pamela suddenly walked into the small office alone. Olivia spun around, pretending she wasn't snooping. At first, she was thankful Pamela wasn't with Eric, but then… She was disappointed. Pam glanced at the roses but didn't seem to react to them. She just sprawled on the porn-casting couch, sucking her teeth.

"Secret admirer?" Olivia asked, admiring the roses still.

"Not so secret. Godric came to visit."

Godric asked her to take care of Eric? Or did Godric ask Eric to take care of someone else? But something else stood out, a question innocent enough she felt she could ask.

"I thought Sheriffs couldn't leave their Areas without permission."

"They can't. But he isn't one anymore, so he can come and go as he pleases. Now can we go girlboss or whatever?"

Olivia was still a bit shaken at the revelation. Wasn't Sheriff-hood a role for life? How did he get out? Was Godric in trouble? Could Eric get out too? Where was Godric going? And why would Eric need care? He is the last person who needs taking care of. So many questions that would just have to go unanswered for tonight. She obeyed Pamela and reached into her purse for the folders she had been working on all day.

That small bundle of papers was definitely a highlight of her professional career so far. It was the highest peak she had reached so far. It was a business proposal for the Louisiana gaming commission that they could benefit from a vampire-run Casino in Shreveport. It had to show all the ways they would attract guests, all the ways they would create jobs and stimulate the local economy, along with the contract for all the investments they would need and the taxes the state would collect in return.

So when Pamela was skimming the pages as if she were a bored housewife reading a tabloid, Olivia couldn't help but sweat a little.

Her icy eyes left the pages and landed on her. "No."

"What do you mean - no?" Olivia protested. "We have 7 million dollars waiting to be cleaned with more on the way each day, so unless you really want to stay in business with Anthony Grey forever-"

Pam smiled with a twinkle in her eye. "I've heard you two met."

"Oh, he's a fucking peach. He's also going to get us all fucking arrested."

She could tell Pamela approved of what Olivia had done to Anthony's car by the way the vampire ate her with her eyes. "Your business proposal isn't entirely useless, but I have my own vision."

"Such as?"

Good Lord, was Pamela going to sink them first?

"The Casino will also have an event space. A three thousand person arena so we can host vampire summits again. The Queen used to have one in New Orleans but it got flattened and flooded by Katrina. And as part of the hotel, I want a vampire speakeasy. I personally love watching naked women dance all night, but a lot of local vampires miss a place where they can hangout… privately. Oh, and a penthouse condo. Love Eric, I really do, but I want my own place."

Olivia drew a deep breath. A large event space can hold all sorts of events - concerts, magicians, wrestling matches, Christmas markets, exhibits, conventions, sports events; that will be an easy sell for the gaming commissioner. The hotel was already part of the business plan, inspired by the Carmilla in Dallas. The vampire speakeasy could easily be dressed as a "prestigious upscale bar" to attract high rollers. No one had to know it was made for vampires. And the penthouse… No one had to know who was staying in the top room either. All in all - doable. And smart.

Olivia nodded. "We can do that."

Taking the papers back, Olivia started crossing out and highlighting the documents, marking everywhere she would have to make edits to the proposal. Soon no page was left untouched.

"It also says we need a board of directors," Pamela stated, watching Olivia tear her own hard work, eager to make it bigger and better - bolder.

"Mhm," she didn't even look up, her eyes lost on the pages. "That's pretty standard for a business this big."

"I don't want a human board of directors."

Ah, of course. "Well, the state is not going to give you a license and fund the investment and not have some control. It's either that or we die by taxes. I may be a talented white-collar criminal Pamela, but no one is that talented."

Pamela paused for a moment, turning into a statue while thinking. Then, she broke her own spell. "What if we are privately funded?"

Olivia raised her browns in deep deep concern. "Did you skip the part where it will cost us 25 million dollars to build this damn thing, and that is not even including your three thousand person arena, vampire bar, and penthouse condo?"

"If I can get us the money-"

"It has to be clean money. They are going to check where every single penny comes from."

"If I get vampire investors," Pamela insisted. "Do you think they will give me full control of the board? It clears the state from a lot of financial risks."

Out of 28 casino licenses in Louisiana, the only 4 who did not get to entirely choose their own board of directors are the four native American ones. Do we really think it's a coincidence? Hell no. They also wanted to build a land-based casino which was a big ask in a state where 18 out of 28 were on riverboats as if they were somehow less "socially impactful" on the communities. On the other hand, they would have to pay yearly property taxes, which Olivia hoped the commissioner would like. It was hard to tell which way the scales would tip, but she was hoping Burrell would weigh in their favor.

"Maybe. Do you really think you can get enough investors to completely fund this with legal money?" She asked, hoping Pam noted the emphasis on legal.

"With my set of tits and your joye-de-vivre we can get any man to fund anythin', darlin'," she smiled seductively, leaning back on the couch. "Especially if I have board seats to give out."

Olivia nodded. The less government control the casino had, the more she could launder cash through it. She wrote down more notes and made a bullet point reminding her to cancel some meetings this week if the gaming commissioner agreed to Pamela's terms. Realizing she would have another long 24 hours ahead re-writing this whole document, Olivia left it on her desk to work on her downtime tonight. Hopefully, it would be calm so she could work on this.

Look at her! The legal part of the job was taking precedence over the illegal one (if you skip over some details, that is). Growth!

Her eyes caught the cameras facing the parking lot. It was full of cars and people again. It seems that Shreveport has a short memory when it comes to police raids. The DEA was off their backs, Fangtasia was popular again, Silk Road was thriving, the Casino deal was looking good - things were falling into place. Everything was going smoothly for once.

Once the club doors opened, she glanced at the monitors again, her eyes immediately landing on the one that captured the top mezzanine. It sat empty. The good feeling she had just a minute ago vanished. The lone chair up top looked incomplete and wrong. Her chest tightened at the idea he could walk in at any moment. Would she face the same angry eyes? Or would she look at him and feel… Nothing?

As luck would have it perhaps, he wasn't anywhere in the club. The office chair sat vacant, the only thing coming for her was the first round of cash from the strip club floor. As the night progressed, she counted all the cash, embedded drug money in the count, updated the ledgers, processed payroll for the salaried staff, looked over the insurance contracts, and did some casino research for the business proposal.

Olivia always found it easy to focus on work, even more, if it was a bit illegal. She loved the thrill of it, the high stakes, the utmost importance of every detail. But tonight she caught herself glancing at security screens every so often. Looking at the door every time she heard someone coming down the hallway. Maybe she was one edge because she knew he wouldn't hear him coming. But regardless, her heartbeat spiked every time a figure turned the corner, deep down both wishing and dreading that it would be Eric.

But he never came. Terry did, a bunch, always with more money (Crystal was having a particularly good night). Pamela came in twice to make some phone calls, and before she knew it the music came to a stop. It was closing time. Fifteen minutes later the girls came up to get their final earnings and it was now time to head back home.

Even as she went back down and exited the parking lot, she scanned for his car, searched for his shadow, hoping to see his eyes looming in the darkness.

"Looking for someone?" Chow asked, appearing out of nowhere.

"You," she lied. "I'm exhausted. Take me home?"

Olivia had her fair share of fun, work, and a regret or two this past weekend. But it had all been dull. It all felt empty and meaningless.

He wasn't here.

The next day Olivia woke up sweating from a sexy fever dream (nightmare?). She took deep breaths, still tasting the fantasy on her tongue. While she was gloriously riding Chow, Eric was sitting on his throne which was in the corner of her bedroom for whatever reason. His dark blue eyes watched, expressionless. He wasn't mad, but he wasn't enjoying it either. He felt nothing. She felt nothing. Chow… Was there. But it felt impersonal, faded - not real.

These dreams were much different than the ones she had with Eric's blood. They weren't as vivid, filled with intoxicating desire, and they didn't leave her longing for hours after she was awake - they were confusing and just plain weird. And most of all, they were forgettable. Once Olivia took a cold shower and tidied up the house her mind had completely forgotten all about it. She sat at her computer to finish the proposal, looking at the chicken scratches of notes that adorned the edges of all pages. Around noon, Hoyt Fortenberry knocked on her door. She had totally forgotten she hired him for his handyman services. He cleaned the filter of her AC units, hung three art frames on her living room and one in her bedroom, mounted the TV on the wall, re-caulked her bathtub and kitchen sink, and cleaned her chimney - no metaphor intended.

"All done, ma'am. Your fireplace is all good to use this winter." Hoyt said, tossing an old rag over his shoulder. He was covered in soot as if Oliver Twist were a giant.

"Ma'am? I'm younger than you."

"Oh, sorry. Missus then?"

She glared at him over the laptop screen in response.

He looked puzzled. "Ain't you married? My mama told me your husband was in the air force."

"Oh, yeah," she totally did. "That was a tiny white lie. It's easier to get people in her generation to like you if you have a husband."

Hoyt immediately felt jittery and considered asking her out, but talked himself out of it. He thought Olivia was way out of his league.

And he would be correct.

Plus Olivia didn't date, remember?

She opened her desk drawer and pulled 300 dollars out of an envelope and gave it to her freakishly tall neighbor. He tried not accepting it at first, insisting it was just a neighborly thing to do. But his mind was clear as they. What he was holding in his hand was close to the amount he needed to move out of his mother's home. The dude was 30, it was beyond time. She thanked him and shoved the bills in his hand, gently nudging him out the door before he gathered the courage to ask her out.

That was another 'perk' of being a telepath; you always knew who had a crush on you, you never had to guess. You'd think it would do wonders for your self-esteem, but to be totally honest, men were pretty simple creatures. Most men would go out with most women, it really doesn't take much. But now that she thought of it… There was something else Hoyt could do for her. Something she could not do for herself. At least not easily.

"Could you actually… Run a small errand for me? I'll pay you another 100."

Hoyt gave her a puppy dog smile. "Damn Miss, if you keep goin' like this I can quit my second job."

"I need you to buy me a wooden stake," she told him, looking him dead serious.

Olivia wasn't going to ask Hoyt to buy her a gun, because that would raise far too much suspicion. Though his head was filled with so much boyish giddiness he would probably commit crimes for her if she kissed him. But Olivia wasn't that desperate yet. All she knew is that she was being watched 24 hours a day, and she could justify buying a gun to Eric if he found out, or even Chow given the supposed mystical 'horde of enemies' that was apparently 'out to get her'. But a wooden stake… Yeah, that would get her in deep, deep trouble. Like, Fangtasia's basement deep.

His eyes went eyed. "Are you in trouble? Are vamps bothering you at work?"

"No, no I'm okay," Olivia assured him. Get your Oscar nominations out because - "It's just that… I have these terrible nightmares, and I do live all alone in this house. I think it would buy me a small piece of mind. And I know it's silly, but I find gun stores really intimidating, and you just know they would try to upsell me into buying half the store and make me even more scared…"

He shifted on his feet, fighting the urge to console her. "Of course! I'll buy you a wooden stake ma'am. No need to pay me or nothin'! In this day and age, I think everyone oughta have one."

"Thank you so much, here's what I need," and she told him what she was looking for - writing it down on a note would create evidence.

He assured her he would be back in less than an hour. Her neighbor knocked on her door with a paper bag less than 45 minutes later. He had bought her exactly what she had described. It was handmade and silver-tipped, with a short handle. Hoyt also purchased a leather thigh strap for it, so she could hide it under skirts and dresses. It was a bit Buffy-Esque but hey! Purses barely fit cell phones these days.

Olivia worked down to the wire, getting ready 30 minutes before she had to leave the house. She noticed Hoyt had forgotten his flannel in the living room, it lay draped over the armchair - probably so he wouldn't get chimney soot all over it. The Escalade parked in front of her house and Olivia rushed out the door, to avoid letting Chow see another man's shirt in her living room. Tonight was not going to be the night for her to find out whether or not Chow was a jealous vampire or not.

He said nothing (surprise) as he unceremoniously drove to their meeting. She noticed the full in the sky - bright and full. An omen for clarity and finding yourself. It was time to find herself with a Casino license.

The house felt buzzing with anticipation. Eric could hear Pamela roaming in her dressing room, heels tip-tapping on and off the antique Turkish rug. To this day he didn't entirely understand the intricate rituals that took place when women got ready, but he would forever enjoy the mystery.

When he leaned against the doorway, she had 6 pairs of earrings laid out on the marble top vanity. The jewels glistened against the black velvet cloth she had laid down. Pam studied them closely as if the answer to the universe's darkest secrets lay in the gemstones themselves.

"They won't notice the earrings, Pamela." Eric sighed. His chest felt tight tonight. Which was odd, because he was utterly empty.

"I know, but tonight is kind of a big deal," she said, looking at him through the mirror with her cold icy stare. She then decided on a dangling pair of ruby's which complemented her eyes.

Eric looked at his progeny as if it were the very last time he would see her. In a way, it would be. Tonight changed everything, only a fool wouldn't admit it. Once she signed on that dotted line, Pamela would be the lucky jackpot winner of a casino license. From tonight on, she would dedicate herself to the colossal project of erecting a whole building from dust and then running it as a giant money-laundering machine for her fucking Majesty. From tonight on, she would be a slave just as much as he was. Even if they stopped selling vampire blood, Pamela would carry this awful, soul-draining duty. She would have to make heart-splitting choices, carry the heavy burden of power, and influence. Her mistakes would carry consequences he could not save her from.

And that scared him. Her greed scared him.

Pamela got up from her vanity and crossed the room. "Did you read the business proposal?" She asked, putting her shoes on - no hesitation there, she went with one of her Louboutins.

"I did." He felt a knot in his throat. What he was hoping would be a quaint hole in the wall casino, had turned into Shreveport's biggest attraction. And he knew this was not Olivia's idea. It had Pamela written all over it.

"Come on, rip me a new asshole already. Get that out of the way."

She could be referring to a number of things. The arena that would qualify for a vampire summit, making her a country-wide political vampire player. Or maybe the secret vampire bar that would certainly pull away business from Fangtasia. Perhaps she meant the Barbie dream penthouse condo she was building for herself, meaning she would move out. They lived together for over a hundred years, where they played the role of husband and wife or businessman and mistress, in city after city. Now she too would leave. Not far - but she wouldn't be here.

Everyone he loved seemed to, these days.

"The arena worries me."

"Everything worries you."

"The Queen will not be happy to not be the hostess."

"She had four years to rebuild her convention center, but she chose to make her own castle bigger instead. It's like she doesn't even care about rebuilding Louisiana's reputation-"

"Do you?"

A long silence stretched. "No."

"Your ambition will be noticed."

"I'm counting on it."

"Have you learned nothing? No one can outshine the Queen - she will not let you."

"We have enough blackmail to bury her in the Marianas trench, Eric. If she wants her fucking money, she can't do jack shit without us."

"But why are you defying her? Why make this all so grand? Why attract so much attention to yourself?"

Pamela stood up tall facing him with fierce eyes, the eyes he had always loved so much. "Because we finally can! We were not meant to rule in the shadows, we were not meant to be small, Eric. You are meant-"

"I am fine where I am." Her brows pinched together, frustrated. She scoffed and walked past him, storming off. "I've told you a hundred times before, big fish in a small pond is-"

"As far as you'll go," she completed his sentence with distaste. "Why do you insist on denying yourself everything you really want?"

"I am not denying myself anything."

She tilted her head, looking at him with a mix of pity and anger. She didn't have to say the words, he knew them.

You denied yourself of her.

Ending this conversation, she headed downstairs. Eric chased her, trying to find the words, any words, that could save her. He regretted letting Olivia ask for a casino license. He regretted putting Pamela's name in the hat. He regretted how hurt she could get. He was her Maker, he was supposed to protect her -

Downstairs, Portia Bellefleur sat still and quiet like in the living room as if she were furniture herself, watching the two argue in the foyer. He switched to Old Norse.

"Power has a price."

"Then let me pay it, Eric!"

There was a soft knock on the door. He knew who stood on the other side of it.

"Don't do this." He begged, the words coming out in a hushed whisper.

She gave him a painful look, her blue eyes glimmering with wrath he could barely look at. Pamela opened the door, revealing Chow and Olivia standing on the porch.

Chow walked in, telling Pamela something his brain failed to absorb. But he was lost in her brown eyes. Their gaze was locked, long after Pamela closed the door and headed into the living room with Chow. It was just the two of them. She looked stunning as ever, her hair was shiny and in place, her skin was glowing. Her allure had grown tenfold since the last time he laid eyes on her. It was painful seeing her doing better without him.

Even though her eyes told him otherwise.

Olivia heard angry whispers coming from inside the house. Recognizing his voice, her stomach was suddenly coated in ice. She suddenly dreaded being here, but it had to be done, she had to face him. She knocked and stood waiting on the porch at the Northman-Swynford de Beaufort residence just like she had so many times, but tonight Chow stood beside her. His presence would certainly make things worse.

Her body pressed her legs together tighter, feeling the hard bulk of the wooden stake strapped to her inner thigh. She thought having it would make her perhaps more confident, or at ease, knowing she could maybe possibly kill a vampire, but in reality, all it did was freak her the fuck out. If she was caught with this thing, she was fucking toast.

The voices ceased, and there were heels against the hardwood. Before she knew it, Pamela opened the door. The vampire eyed her, head to toe as she always did, and motioned her to come inside. She then stared at Chow.

"I swear if you breathe a word of anything you hear in this meeting to anyone I will personally kill, fuck and eat you, in this order."

What a welcome.

"Nice seeing you Pamela," Chow said, ignoring the threat completely and heading towards the living room with the blonde vampire.

Then Olivia saw him, and all the air in her lungs seized inside her. Her feet brought her forward, but she wasn't following Chow inside. She stopped right in front of him, almost at his feet, fighting herself to not get any closer. Eric's gaze on her was striking, piercing right through her, his jaw was locked tight. She couldn't decipher his expression - it was something lost between grief and anger. A shiver went down her spine breaking the spell he held her under, and she painfully forced herself to walk past him.

She wanted to say something, anything, but there was nothing to say. He lied to her. She punished him by punishing herself. Now she was bound to another. There were no words that could undo any of that.

Eric quietly followed Olivia into the living room, joining Pam, Chow, and Portia, who nodded hello.

"You ready hotcakes?" Pamela asked with excitement in her voice.

Pamela looked prettier than usual tonight. The vampire was wearing a Fendi patterned silk skirt and off-shoulder black blouse, like someone's trophy wife. Her cheeks were rosy and her lipstick was a matching pink tone to the skirt. Her hair was curled and molded in a beautiful retro 50's bombshell style, which was beautiful but didn't necessarily fit the outfit. It certainly made Olivia feel underdressed, somehow, despite being dressed up too. She was wearing a pretty french blue dress that was long enough to cover the sharp wooden piece on her thigh and silver heels. She even wore a pearl necklace to make it extra southern.

"Yeah, I'm ready. You read through the last draft I sent you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Of course I didn't, I have better things to do."

"Oh, I'm sorry if I am boring you-" Olivia squinted her eyes. She had far too much riding on this for anyone in this room not to take seriously.

"You sent me like 6 versions of it! My email is gonna mark you spam. As long as it has the things we talked about last night, I don't care for the details."

"I read it all," Portia pitched in.

Portia Bellefleur also was dressed to kill tonight. It was the first time in her life looked like she didn't have a pickle up her ass. She had gotten a blowout, was wearing red lipstick and a well-fitted little black dress, 3 whole inches shorter than usual. She has knee caps! Scandalous!

"Did Pamela give you a makeover?"

Her eyes went wide. "No. Why?" Oh, God, do I look bad? Her mind projected.

Oh, she did this all on her own? Good for her. "No reason, you look very nice."

She relaxed. "Thank you. Now, I read the business proposal and it is pretty bold, you know, being land-based. But the rest is ironclad. If we really have the influence Pamela says we do, the cat is in the bag already."

Of course, it was ironclad, she wrote the damn thing. She caught Eric's eyes again. He was standing in a corner, arms crossed looking breathtaking. Come to think of it, it was the first time she had seen him wear anything other than black or a suit. Eric wore a pale blue-green sweater and dark trousers. It made him look strangely docile, but she knew the menace and violence that lay behind those ocean blue eyes. There was nothing docile about Eric Northman. Not even his kisses.

There was another knock on the door. Her senses picked up two human signatures. Olivia took a deep breath - it was time for her to focus. She could not be distracted by Eric, or by Chow, or by anyone or anything. The gaming commissioner entered with another man, a lawyer. Introductions were then made - everyone but Eric and Chow which seemed to guard the two exits of the living room. The two Louisiana officials were deeply uncomfortable in the presence of vampires. Portia picked up on it and offered them something to drink in polite southern fashion. She came back a moment later from the kitchen with a pitcher of iced sweet tea and glasses on a pretty aged bronze tray. Portia must have brought it herself because Olivia doubted Eric and Pam stocked iced tea for guests. Or they were shitty hosts who never offered her any.

Olivia started the business meeting, presenting their proposal and plans. Portia, who seemed to have memorized the whole document, helped answer questions. Having a working partner felt… Refreshingly assuring. She didn't know what had happened to Portia, who often dragged her feet every time Olivia asked her to do something bold, but there was a drive in her now that she hoped would never slow down.

Using her senses, she figured it took the commissioner and the lawyer a good 20 minutes of being distracted trying to determine who in the room was a vampire and who wasn't. To Olivia it had always been obvious, but apparently some have trouble distinguishing the two by looks alone. It also didn't help that all the vampires present were wearing normal current year outfits and not their punk goth/sex dungeon master clothes. Even Chow had a shirt on.

After the two men eased into the company, they started negotiating details. First, they wanted the Casino to occupy more land and be out of town. They settled on less land, but inside town limits. Being near the water but not on a riverboat was already a huge win. Negotiations went on and on, like a very boring and slow match of ping pong.

"As for the government cut, we will take 20% of revenue, monthly," the commissioner said. For whatever reason, Pamela shot her a look with her icy eyes. Too high. "It's standard."

It wasn't. Olivia glanced at Portia, who picked up on the nuance.

"18 and a half," countered the lawyer who was excelling in her role as a bad cop in the past 15 minutes.

"19-" the commissioner replied.

Olivia, who had been reading the men's minds this entire time, knew exactly what their boundaries were and how far she could push their limits. But nudging them there was a dance of give and take, and she had to circle around their (huge) egos. It was a whole lot like playing poker while knowing the opponent's hand. You still have to convince them to put their chips down by making them think they are winning.

"29 percent," Olivia intruded. The whole room looked at her. "Of profits."

Other than the men's minds buzzing with possibilities, there was silence in the room. Pam's lips pressed together and if looks could kill, Olivia would be dead right now. She really thought the vampire would fire her right then and there, then kill her in her sleep later, but she held off. Olivia hoped she would understand what she was trying to do before she killed her. Or at least ask before she struck.

See, revenue is incontestable (more or less, she would be manipulating those numbers too). But profits… Profits anyone can make disappear very easily. Profits guaranteed the overhead, salaries, bonuses, investments, and debts. It sounded better on paper but in reality, they would make Louisiana gain very little.

"Absolutely not," the commissioner shook his head. "We need guarantees if we are going to fund this 35 million dollar project."

"What if we are completely self-funded?" Pamela asked, seeing her opening.

Aaaah shit here we go-

"Well, that is quite unusual… But we do have a clause for it," the lawyer spoke. "You would have 60 days from today's date to secure all the funding of your proposal and submit all the invoices and paperwork to the commissioner's office."

"And if we don't?" Olivia asked. She didn't like where this was going.

"Your license is revoked, pending renegotiations."

"I already have investors lined up, gentlemen," Pamela said in a sweet and calm voice as if she were unable to yell.

We do?

"Well, it will certainly play better in the media if you were self-funded," the commissioner agreed. "Louisiana funding a project this size…. Would not play well in the public opinion."

Meaning, the government handing over 35 million dollars of taxpayer money to vampires to build a casino of all things, would not make the Governor look very good.

"I completely understand the public's natural distrust," Pamela nodded. "Which is why I also ask to be in complete control of the board. Trust goes both ways."

The room halted to a stop. Olivia's eye caught Eric. He hadn't moved an inch or looked away. His gaze laid heavily on her this entire time, making her skin feel hot. For a long while, she forgot where she was.

"We can work with that. Sign here and here, Madam." He pushed the papers on the coffee table towards Pam. Her perfect small and dainty hand marked the document in her elegant signature. Olivia was so distracted, she almost missed it.

"Keep us updated on your financing. Once that is done we will meet with city councilors to discuss the plot of land."

The commissioner and the lawyer shook hands with Portia and Olivia, and last but not least, Pamela. She begrudgingly took their hands, and they shuddered with the coldness of her skin. The duo was gone without any more parting words.

Pamela was absolutely beaming. So did Portia. Olivia wanted to celebrate too, but she held her happiness back. Every instinct in her body asked for Eric. She wanted to know what he thought about it, why he didn't say anything at all, and why he was looking at her the entire time.

"Congratulations, Pamela," Olivia finally said something, looking away from the Viking.

"It was very smart what you pulled back there. 22 % of profits makes sure we always get ours."

Ah - she understood. Olivia was thankful Pamela would not kill her in her sleep later. "It is easy to not look profitable on paper," she nodded.

Both Pamela and Olivia stared at Eric waiting for his blessing. But it didn't come. "I have common court to get to. Will you join?"

"I have some calls to make. I'll see you later?" Pamela asked sweetly.

He gave a curt nod and walked out of the house. Olivia's lips pressed into a fine line as she watched him exit. All that looking, all that staring. All that longing. And nothing. What had she done?

Chow made his way to the front door to take Olivia home, but Pamela grabbed his arm.

"There are many things I need to discuss with Olivia tonight, so how about you go help Eric with court?"

Chow's whole body tensed. "I have a duty-"

"I will not harm your fucking princess. It's a goddamn meeting, the worst that'll happen is that she'll get a paper cut."

The vampire, however, did not move.

"Do I need to remind you you have a duty to your Sheriff as well?" Her voice was cold as her eyes.

Olivia may not be able to read vampire minds, but she knew something was up. Finding investors was Pamela's responsibility, not hers. Liv was thankful she had the stake with her, but god fucking dammit her career would be over if she had to use it.

"It's okay, Chow. I'll call you when we are done here," she told him, trying to release him.

He was surprised at Olivia's request, but he complied anyway. Pamela watched him get into the Escalade and back out the driveway before shutting the door. Here's to… Getting used to being alone with Pamela.

"So… Where are we going?" Liv asked, immediately nervous about every theory her brain was concocting.

"Well, to get an investor of course. Didn't you hear? We have 60 days to secure 45 million dollars. The clock doesn't fucking stop."

She frowned, worried. Investor? As in a single one? "Who the hell do you know that has that kind of money laying around?"

"Don't worry about it," she answered a bit too quickly. It made her worry a lot. "Come."

Pamela turned on her heels and went up the grand stairs, motioning for Olivia to follow. Butterflies were putting it lightly, she felt like there were starlings scratching the insides of her stomach. But she followed. They were in Pamela's dressing room again, and she was pulling out garment bags off a rack and tossing them on the 4-foot wide red velvet ottoman in the center of the room. This place was really the dream of any woman. But the setting was Olivia's nightmare.

"I think we both look business-appropriate already," Olivia looked at her own dress.

Goddammit, what if Pam put her in an outfit that would reveal the stake on her thigh? Even if she managed to take it off without the vampire seeing it, the strap was tied so tightly on her leg it definitely would leave a mark on her skin. FUCK this was a terrible idea. She was not a vampire slayer!

"Not where we are going," she said, now selecting shoes.

"And where's that?"

"Bon Temps," she answered, getting three garment bags and handing them to Olivia. Who the hell in Bon Temps has that kind of money? "Try the blue one first, you look good in blue."

Olivia had a million questions and she was afraid of all the answers. Hoping whatever was in the bag would shed a light as to where tonight would go, she unzipped the bag. What she found inside was nothing like what she expected, but she was relieved. It was a very old Hollywood glamor floor-length gown with thin straps and a layered skirt and a matching see-through scarf. It would cover the weapon strapped on her. The very deadly, very stupid weapon.

"Wow, it's beautiful."

"Grace Kelly wore the same one in 'To Catch a Thief'. Now get to it, I need to know if it fits before we move on to plan B."

Pam stood there, waiting. Was Olivia supposed to undress right there? "Where is your washroom?"

"This may surprise you, but I have seen naked women before." Pamela kept browsing her closet, paying Olivia no mind.

But she knew damn well the second Olivia undressed, her eyes would study her again, head to toe, judging her birthday suit. And her thigh.

"I have to pee." Olivia lied. "I'm assuming vampire bathrooms have toilets?"

Pamela rolled her eyes. "God! You are needy. Second door to your right, down the hall."

Olivia quickly sneaked into the bathroom - all marble with warm golden lighting. Olivia hung the garment on a nearby hook, undid her own dress and put the borrowed gown on. The dress was beautiful. Some of the fabric on the skirt was a darker shade of blue, and the scarf draped from the back of the dress over her shoulder and across her bare chest. After flushing the toilet and washing her hand, Olivia walked back to the dressing room.

"Will this suffice?" She asked, standing by the door, trying not to feel too pretty.

"Yes, you look darling. Go sit down by the vanity, I'm doing your hair next."

Olivia complied, feeling like Grace Kelly herself. "So who are we meeting?"

"We are going to visit The Collector."

She could feel Pamela's eyes on her back, watching her.

"Collector of what?"

"Things. Art. People." what- "He started off being a procurer, finding special and rare blood types for rich vampires who were willing to pay. Then he moved on to finding lost things. Important books, family heirlooms, magical items, descendants. That sparked his interest in procuring for himself."

"And you think he has an interest in owning a Casino?"

She shrugged. "He likes money. I think that is his favorite thing to collect."

Olivia couldn't argue with that, it surely was hers. After picking out her own outfit, Pamela walked over. The vampire gave her one of her 'makeovers' before when Eric gave a speech at a police press conference months ago. She had made Olivia look pale like a cadaver then.

"Add some bronzer too, will you? Last time you really washed me out."

Pamela turned on the hot curlers and arched her brows. "Bitch you're gonna get whatever I give you, and you're gonna like it."

She started brushing out her hair and separating it into sections. Her long nails felt good on her scalp. There was a long silence that followed. Olivia just watched Pamela work through the brightly lit mirror. She could see why Eric would have turned her. She was absolutely breathtaking - and scary as hell. Olivia felt a dull ache in her chest again, wishing Eric was more involved in the Casino, but he really seemed to be taking a backseat in this. Was he just avoiding her? He couldn't avoid her forever, she was his-

"Come on, ask already," Pamela said out of nowhere. "I know you want to."

Olivia's mouth went slightly dry. "How's Eric?"

The corners of Pam's mouth slightly curled up but the vampire said nothing. She started rolling up her hair in the hot curlers. Too long went by before she spoke. "Oh, I said you could ask, I didn't say that I would answer."

She slumped her shoulders, annoyed. Seriously?!

"I'll tell him you asked though-"

"That is not necessary," she said coldly.

Pamela swiveled her stool around and started adding some makeup on top of what she was already wearing. Not much - just a half set of lashes on the outer corner, some nude pink lipstick, and matching blush.

"Fine, but only because I feel bad for you," she said, turning around and picking up a dress for herself.

"Oh, you feel?" Liv asked sarcastically, not believing a word she just said.

"Point made. All I'm sayin' is that you could have been bound to me, and I am much more fun than Chow," unlike her, Pamela did not shy away from getting undressed in front of Olivia.

"Chow is a perfect gentleman."

Pam made a face. "Oh, so you haven't fucked him yet."

Her eyes went wide at the insinuation that Chow could be… Exactly how he looked.

"Interesting," she shrugged. "Guess he's keeping the gift receipt, after all."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Pam smiled deviously while zipping herself up in a pink version of her Grace Kelly dress. Her bombshell hairstyle now matched the outfit perfectly, too perfectly - she had planned to go see 'The Collector' tonight all along.

"It means sweetie, that he doesn't plan on keeping you."

A cold shiver took over her whole body. Was that it? He wasn't being chivalrous at all, he was keeping her untouched and pristine because he was going to-

"He's giving me to Eric."

"No, not giving," she corrected her. "He did name a very high price."

"How much?"

She started to remove the curlers out of Olivia's hair gently, brushing them out with hairspray. "It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does matter, if he's going to do something stupid-"

Pamela gathered all her hair and gave it a good tug on the base of her ponytail, making her head jerk back. Olivia did not dare to breathe, every muscle in her body went tense. She had to force her hand to stay still on the marble top of the vanity and not immediately reach between her legs for the wooden stake. "Eric may like your impertinence, but I do not," Pam said sternly, making her blood go ice cold. "I'll take care of him."

Take care of him, the roses said.

Pam then slowly released her and resumed brushing her hair. Olivia made a mental note to go through the accounts with a fine-tooth comb later to search for any missing money. She had no idea how high 'very high' was, but she knew they could not afford it right now. Was that why Eric was so quiet and distant? He wanted to buy Olivia from Chow but their money was all tied up in the Casino? Was he contemplating using Silk Road Money? They had far more than they could clean right now, but if the Queen discovered he was stealing from her, heads would roll.

She also made a mental note to not cross Pamela again. She was arguably worse than Eric. Then she realized something: Pamela did not tell Eric or Chow where they were going. All she said is that she had to 'make some calls', which was very different from visiting some vampire billionaires named The Collector all the way out in Bon Temps. Olivia did not like this one fucking bit.

"Okay, what's this guy's name then? I'm not gonna call him 'The Collector' to his face like he's a damn bond villain, despite being dressed like we could be part of the movie."

The vampire, now all dressed in pink, handed her a silver beaded night clutch that matched her shoes, and she was carrying the same one in gold. Did Pamela own multiple colors of all her stuff? The duo stood in front of a wide, 8-foot tall mirror, looking like a strange set of bond girl twins.

"The Collector is a bit of an old-fashioned guy. He likes his Elvis, silver screen classics, old cars, and such, hence the outfits," Pamela switched earrings - pearls, to match hers. "And you can call him Bill. Bill Compton."

A.N.:

Hello! I'm glad to announce that will be taking vacation this week (!) and it will be used to actually rest and write! Can you believe it? A healthcare worker RESTING? In this economy?

Hope you angels liked this chapter, and I am SO excited to edit and post the upcoming ones! I can barely wait!

I am going to introduce another character that I have changed slightly (sort of). It is mentioned in both the books and the show that Bill Compton's job title is a procurer for hire, which I found to be just about the single most interesting thing about him as a character. Bill Compton... does not do it for me man.