Chapter 49: Who Invited You

He spent the rest of the evening alone in his high tower, trying to avoid the angry and sour stares from both Pamela and Olivia who were working below. Pamela shot her daggers from behind the bar, serving sloppy drinks to any brave soul who dared approach. And Olivia picked up said half-finished drinks from various tables and corners, her lips a thin line, and her gaze low the whole time. A cold wall came from her, and then a void of nothingness when she disappeared behind the bar. He tried to indulge in his earlier daydreams, but the spark was gone. Everything felt dull now.

"You have a guest," spoke Gerald from the bottom of the stairs. All the bouncers had an earpiece and could communicate to one another - no matter where they were.

He glanced down at the vampire, his bald head was shiny red under the club lights as he stood halfway down the stairs. Eric actually fully expected Bill Compton to pay him a visit, but who he saw strolling inside made his cold heart shrink a full size.

The Queen of Louisiana, Her Majesty Sophie-Anne LeClerq, the Queen of Storms, the Breaker of Rules and Harbinger of Broken hearts, walked inside Fangtasia. She was wearing an all grey silk dress with a dark fur coat, her neck was coated in dark jewels. Her fiery red hair was softly curled, contrasting her cold grey eyes, skin and heart.

Eric was expecting an unpleasant call at most, or maybe the Queen would send her bitch boy of a right hand, Andre, with a message. Sophie-Anne never left her fucking castle for anyone, so seeing her here in the flesh was both puzzling and concerning. Eric ran through all the scenarios he had already rehearsed in his head that would warrant having the Queen in his fucking club. Only one made sense. She knew about the Casino.

As if she were balancing an invisible crown on her head, vampires bowed and curtsied as she walked towards the steps that led to his mezzanine. Most humans paid her no mind, a few noted the beautiful pale woman crossing the crowd like a model on the catwalk. Gerald unhooked the velvet rope from the stanchion to let their Queen up the high tower. She pranced like royalty as if she owned this place. No, no, just his balls.

"Mr. Northman," her cold sultry voice called him.

"My Queen," being polite, he stood up. "What do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

She paid him no mind, sitting on the booth right next to him as a well acquainted guest, eyes full of wonder enjoying the dancers below. Following his manners, he sat back down at his seat, eyeing Pamela who gave him a curt nod. His progeny had also figured out why she was here. He made a small movement with his hand pointing to the backstage entrance, indicating for her to lock Olivia away. She nodded before disappearing backstage. The last thing he needed right now was to have the Queen attack his accountant again. One thing was to confront the Queen in private, another was to strike her in front of their vassals, openly defying her authority.

And he would too if the situation called for it. He would start a war to protect what was his.

"A little bird tells me you have a Casino licence," her eyes were distracted with Dawn, who snaked around the centre stage pole, contorting her body in unnatural ways.

"The amount of money we needed to launder called for it," he said quietly. The music blasting in the club would muffle anything said up here. He had designed it that way.

"Ah! Well, see-" she squinted, a hint of an evil smile on her face. "This is where we have a liiiittle bit of a problem,"

She sat up propper, crossing her legs and hugging her knees. Her red nails matched her red lipstick. He could tell the entire club was looking up at them, curious as to what they could be discussing. He stared back at his Queen, giving her his stone-cold eyes and nothing more. Eric had feared this moment for weeks now. He had imagined how this exact conversation would unfold a thousand different ways. Most ended poorly.

"You have been Sheriff of Area 5 for over twenty years now," She stated. He was painfully aware of that fact. "You are loved, well respected, rich, successful, incredibly old and powerful," she went on. Sophie-Anne was not one for compliments.

"I'm flattered," he muttered.

She twisted her lips, mockingly. "You have a strip club and a variety of other businesses, you control basically half of all my income and now you are erecting a multi-million dollar legal business in your name, with an arena, a hotel, and a vampire-only bar. That is quite the portfolio Carson is building for you."

The Queen knew everything, as he expected her to. She wouldn't be the Queen for this long if she didn't have her ways of finding out.

"Olivia is doing a great job," he nodded curtly. "However, Pamela owns the Casino, not me."

She snickered. "Summon her."

He did not have to use their blood bond for that. With a nod across the club, Pamela was already on her way up the mezzanine. In the thousand ways he saw these cards fall, he had imagined this too. Eric did not fear much, but he did fear this. Pamela joined them, looking otherworldly beautiful and vaguely threatening as always. But the added sourness of someone who had just lost 3 million dollars.

"Congratulations Pamela dear, on your new business venture."

Hesitantly, his progeny smiled and nodded. "Thank you, my Queen. I am very lucky."

There was a light flicker on the Queen's face. "If you don't mind me asking, what's the split between you two?" Her cold eyes obliterated everything with frost. Pamela would not live if she minded the question.

"I hold 51, and Eric 20. Some of the remaining is currently open for investors," she said, hopeful the Queen would be interested in the remaining 21% available - considering Olivia now held 8.

Sophie-Anne nodded pleased, her attention was no longer divided with the beautiful dancers below. Her eyes were only on them. "I am afraid I cannot let your little Empire outshine mine, Mr. Northman. People would start questioning… Their loyalty."

Everyone knew vampires swayed with whoever was the strongest. In vampire politics, optics were everything. If he accumulated enough power, money and influence to threaten Sophie-Anne's authority, who's to say he wouldn't gather enough supporters to overthrow her?

"You can rest assured I have no interest in making any political advances. This is purely for your benefit, my Queen."

He knew all of this was unfair. They needed this Casino because Sophie-Anne was demanding ungodly amounts of money to fuel her lavish lifestyle and uncontrolled gambling addiction. She made them create this empire out of necessity, and now they would be punished for it. Or at least, someone was going to pay.

"Oh, of course," she laughed it off. "I know how much you disregard the throne. But others don't, and I don't want anyone getting the wrong idea of who is in charge here."

Tensions started to thicken between the three of them. "Certainly, your Majesty," Eric said firmly. He was then hit by an awful sense of deja vu.

"Which is why I need you to stay out of it, Mr. Northman. Completely."

Pamela's jaw clicked. Eric did not know if she was angry at losing her business partner, or happy that 20% just cleared up for investors.

"I understand," he nodded.

"I'll buy in the Casino instead. Say, 30 million for his 30%? And I'd like my own room. Penthouse, of course."

The Queen was either bad with business or being extremely generous. 30 million was over half the money Pamela needed.

"I will send you the paperwork," his progeny agreed, her face blank like a stonewall. If her money did not pass Olivia's strict vetting rules, she would have to deal with turning down the Queen's investment. And all of them knew how dirty her money was, no matter how well Olivia washed it.

"Excellent!" Sophie-Anne smiled, putting her hands together.

Excited, she got up and leaned against the glass bannister, taking in the view below. She looked at the party, enjoying the dancers as much as the other guests. She then reached deep into her fur coat pocket and threw a fistful of cash into the air, letting it rain on the stage below like confetti. People cheered and the DJ dropped a popular beat, getting a rise from the crowd.

Neither Eric nor Pamela moved an inch, unsure if she was done with her wicked games. Having Sophie-Anne involved with the Casino could be a problem, and if her money was clean he had no idea where these 30 million dollars came from. It better not be from fucking Bill Compton-

"Just one more tiny little thing, a detail, if you will," she spun back on her heels, facing them. His heart trembled. "I can't have you control her in any way."

The irony was that apparently he already didn't.

"Eric, you must release your progeny," the Queen said finally, dropping the final hammer. "I'll rest easier that way."

Pamela stiffened, her hands made claws instead of fists this time. Eric moved quickly, flaking himself between the two vampires. Sophie-Anne had a talent for causing chaos everywhere she went, yes, but Eric had tried to warn Pamela about the cost of power since it all started. He told her over and over again, that the cost of so-called greatness and power was sacrificing little pieces of yourself along the way. This time the piece would be him.

It was cruel, what the Queen asked of him. Everyone knew Pamela would be loyal to him until the day of her true death - bound or not. They spent over one hundred years together. His blood ran in her veins. She was his most beautiful legacy. Pam would not believe this right now, but this was more of a punishment for him than for her.

Her eyes shattered right in front of him. She didn't cry, but he could see it in her face that she had reached a breaking point. She didn't want to be released, untethered from her anchor.

Don't release me, those blue eyes glistened. Please.

Pamela wanted to be a part of him forever. It was what she begged for the night they met, and that was what he agreed to give her. Eric remembered the pain and devastation he felt when Godric released him as if it happened yesterday. That wound had never closed, and now he would inflict the same pain on the person he loved the most. He would have no family left.

But Eric had never betrayed his Maker. He was loyal even when he did not have to be, to this very day. He couldn't exactly say that of her. In fact, there were a million things he wanted to say to her but he couldn't, not with the Queen watching.

"I told you power had a cost, my childe," he said in Old Norse, low enough that hopefully only she would hear it.

A dark tremble went through her body.

The blame for putting her on this path he carried alone. He knew from the moment he laid eyes on her that Pamela was meant to be extraordinary, she was destined for greatness, and so much more than her life had given her. But Pamela had never been satisfied with their quaint life in Louisiana Area 5, despite all the luxury, power, and freedoms he had given her over the years. It had never been enough. She grew bored and restless, and perhaps even a little resentful.

For a fleeting moment on that rooftop, Eric thought the Casino was going to make her happy. But as with everything, it came with its own set of problems and its own exorbitant price. Scared of what it would be, Eric had begged her not to go through with it, and she chose to remain on this path anyway. Maybe he was still right - Pamela was still meant to become extraordinary. Just not with him.

Eric hoped that one day he would regret saying those words. But right at that moment, after everything, perhaps she deserved them.

"Pamela as your Maker, I release you."

She let out a painful and shaky exhale. He held his in. He held onto the crumbling pain because it was the very last thing he would ever have of her. Eric held on because he knew what happened next. At first, it felt like shattering glass - a simple movement and it burst into a million pieces. A hundred years together and it is quickly reduced to dust. Then into nothing, swept into the wind. Gone. She was gone.

Pam had always been free, but now she was truthfully unbound. Alone. She let out a tiny whimper, holding back what he knew was a long howling cry. The strongest woman he had ever known, and even she faltered.

"God, it's always so dramatic!" Sophie-Anne whined, walking around them and sprawling herself at the booth as if the most painful day of Pamela's life was not entertaining enough for her.

Pamela excused herself and walked out of the mezzanine, taking back her position behind the bar. She faced the liquor shelves with her head hanging low for a long minute. He tried not to look. But the alternative was looking at the Queen, and it took him all his self-control not to kill her.

"She'll get over it," she sneered. "And she'll be better for it. All the best vampires have been released, don't you agree?"

Eric never wanted to rip someone's spine out of their bodies more than he did right now. All 33 bones, one by one. "Yes."

Like a bored child, Sophie-Anne tipped Eric's tense body, a little too close for comfort. "Wanna pick one of your girls for us to share?"

Eric's jaw was shut so tight, his molars might break. "I'm good. You go ahead."

But she shifted on her seat, full of energy. Sophie-Anne always got horny after destroying lives. But what she said next was somehow even worse.

"My, my… Is that Olivia's scent on you?"

He looked her dead in the eye in a way that even she backed off, leaning away on the seat cushion behind her. The smile she gave him was darker but inquisitive.

"I take my protection duties very seriously," he told her simply.

"I can see that," she laughed under her breath. "Tell me, does she fuck as good as than she tastes?"

Eric did not like her tone or her question, nor did he have anything to gain by letting her provoke him or playing whatever fucking game this was. But the Queen just made him release the one thing he had to lose. And he was feeling particularly dangerous right now. So dangerous he had to remind himself what would happen if he killed Sophie-Anne right now, in front of everyone. He would be cursed to take her place. His prison would grow fivefold, and he would be responsible for all vampires, and all humans who lived in Louisiana - whether they were aware or not. He would have to answer to the fucking Authority himself.

He'd rather live hostage to this redheaded psychopath than have to degrade himself any lower.

"Better," he said coldly, between his teeth.

What it felt like an eternity went by, their eyes locked in a deadly match. "You know what she is, then?"

"I do," Eric nodded. "Which makes me question why you gave her to me at all."

The Queen lifted her chin as if she suddenly reminded herself of her imaginary crown. "I don't expect you to understand."

He had been waiting months for this answer and he wasn't going to let the opportunity pass him by. "Try me."

A glint of sadness crossed her features for a slight second. "What she can do… Scares me."

Eric frowned, shocked at the answer. Eric felt many things for her, but fear was never one of them. There was something the Queen was not telling him.

"Why not sell her to Compton? I'm sure she's worth quite a lot."

The lively sparkle in her eyes went out. "For the same reason you won't. That man is a monster. You don't give someone like Olivia to him-"

"A monster you owe a lot of money to, not me."

"I wouldn't let him borrow my fucking housemaid, let alone sell him a fairy."

Eric knew Sophie-Anne grew attached to all her servants. Not a single soul in her gaudy awful mansion was glamoured to be there, but yet dozens of them lived happily in servitude. Sophie-Anne loved her humans much like humans loved their pet dogs, and whatever shred of affection she gave them seemed to be enough to make them stay. All, except the one pet she sent away.

"I gave her to you because she would be safer with someone who doesn't… Grow fond of humans like I always seem to."

What was it again that she called him? "Someone heartless?"

Many parts of him died over the centuries - morals, conscience, compassion. He thought his heart had died too, especially after losing Sylvie. Turns out they were both wrong.

"I find it hard to believe you sent her all the way out here because of your feelings and not because you didn't want to face Bill Compton when he inevitably found out about her. And since you're all out of cards left to play, you'd be forced to let him collect her," Eric sighed. "Now the collector is my problem."

Gods, it was so painfully obvious now.

"No," she shook her head. "I really cared for her, Eric. In my own sick and twisted way, but I did," her gaze was distracted, looking at the dancers again. But her mind was elsewhere. "I sent her away because I knew if I kept her I would kill her. I couldn't do that to her. I couldn't live with myself if I did."

Godric's fairy came to mind. Was it real then? If Olivia was bound her life would just drain away? "Because of what she is?"

"No," she frowned. "Because of who I am. I don't deserve her. And neither do you."

Olivia got back to her house, which still smelled like Pine Sol and fresh paint from the cleaners. She had taken a taxi home. Once she opened the gates, she spied Thalia hanging out at the end of her driveway, near the garage. Thalia was maybe 5 feet tall and looked straight up like a serial killer. Her eyes were almost black, void of any emotion at all. She had a mop of brown hair on her head that would probably be really beautifully curly if she cared for it. The vampire seemed to be doing Tai Chi of some kind, but Olivia really rather not find out. Thalia had the reputation to be quite violent and short-tempered.

All she wanted to do was get inside and take a shower. She was sweaty and slimy, and her clothes smelled like beer and Victoria's Secret Bombshell body mist. But since she couldn't get her wound wet, she had to make do with a wet cloth. It felt okay, but it gave her no satisfaction whatsoever. Feeling hungry, she opened the fridge and encountered it to be stocked to the absolute brim.

"What the-"

Orange juice, cranberry juice, apple cider, milk, strawberries, grapes, apples, mandarins, cheeses she couldn't even pronounce, an assortment of jams, fruity yogurt, plain yogurt, eggs, chicken breast, steak, pork chops, butter, cream, mini carrots, hummus, salads, fresh pasta, celery, bell peppers, tiny tomatoes, regular tomatoes, beer, and sparkling water. She opened the pantry next: dried beans and lentils, spices, rice, olive oil, vinegar, bread, tomato sauce, cartons of every broth imaginable, a bag of onions, another bag of potatoes, peanut butter, coffee, tea, walnuts, almonds, dried cranberries, raisins, cookies, and chocolate.

As she opened the cabinets she found pounds and pounds of food - a 10 pound bag of flour, sugar, and baking supplies. The freezer was filled with meat, frozen peas and broccoli, and two trays of homemade lasagna.

It seemed Eric had done a bit more than just send 'cleaners'. Not only there wasn't a spot of blood in this house, but they had also repainted the kitchen walls and fixed the crushed kitchen cabinet and counter, gotten her new kitchen chairs and there was even a bouquet of red tulips on the table. All this, and his bite mark being faded - it was like Chow had been erased from life altogether. And replaced with-

"Can I use your bathroom?" A voice called out from the dark.

Olivia jerked her head so fast her neck almost broke. Thalia's tiny black eyes watched her from the back door's window.

"Vampires… Need to use the bathroom?"

"We have to pee when we drink dirty blood."

Olivia did not want to know what dirty blood meant, nor did she want to find out how little it took to piss Thalia off. She reluctantly agreed and invited the vampire inside. The short woman walked in and headed straight down the hallway, taking the first right… As if she knew her way around already. It was really disconcerting how much they all knew about her. Privacy here was an illusion.

Too hungry and annoyed to care, Olivia made herself a PB and J sandwich, got three mandarins out of the fridge, and poured herself a glass of apple cider, feeling like the richest woman alive. She had no idea what to do with all this food. She could handle the frozen lasagnas and maybe put some salads and sandwiches together. But having fresh produce in the fridge did not mean she magically could cook now. Steak? Dried grains? What the fuck was baking soda even for?

Not too long after Thalia flushed the toilet, the vampire came right back out, headed straight outside.

"Hey Thalia," Olivia said, making the woman freeze in her kitchen. "Can you teach me how to fight?"

"Fight what?"

She shrugged. "Does it matter?"

Her dark eyes studied her in the dimly lit kitchen. Only the soft yellow light of her range hood was on. Olivia was still chewing on her sandwich, watching Thalia think. She put down her food, reached into her purse and pulled out the wolf blood-stained wooden stake. Olivia had to put some serious elbow grease to get this thing dislodged from the mirror. It had gone through it and halfway through the wall. Eric had hit it bullseye on a freaking wall stud.

"You wanna fight with that?" She mocked her.

"What's wrong with it?"

"Well, for one, you overpaid for the silver cap. Those things are dull and useless. It's like stabbing someone with a knife cover on," the vampire approached and took the wooden piece off her hands.

Putting the tip in her mouth, Thalia bit down on it. Steam came off her skin, the silver instantly burning her tongue and lips, but other than the crinkle in her nose, she didn't seem to care much about it. She popped off the cap with her teeth as if she were opening a beer bottle. She then spat the silver tip out in the sink. Louisiana was maybe rubbing off on her.

Under the cap, the point of the wooden stake came to a rounded point. Thalia reached for a chef's knife hanging on a newly installed magnetic strip on her backsplash. Olivia would bet if she kept exploring her kitchen cabinets, she would also find out that Eric had also bought her all new cookware. Wasted money, but she… Appreciated the gesture.

Thalia leaned over the kitchen sink and started sharpening the wood tip, curly rasps of the oak just falling down in the basin. If she had done this before… Could have she killed Debbie before she killed Chow? Would things be any better had she committed murder? The pit forming in her throat was hard to swallow.

"How do I use it?"

"You stab it with the pointy end," she said simply, pushing the blade away repeatedly, carving a sharper and sharper point. "Chest height, slightly to your right of the midline if you are facing them, left side of the spine if you are coming from the back. Right through the mouth, angling upwards, or straight through one of the eyes also works. Don't stop pushing it inside until they stop moving. Killing is not rocket science, you know."

"Right," she nodded awkwardly. She made it sound so… Simple. "It's not for Eric, by the way."

"Don't care if it is." Thalia shrugged looking at her blank. "Whatever vampire manages to get killed by a freaking human deserves to die anyway."

The vampire put the wooden stake on the counter and simply walked out into the backyard, resuming her meditation activities. Olivia looked down at the newly improved weapon in front of her, running the plan in her head.

It would happen on Monday when Eric was a vampire common court.

She would make sure Bill Compton wasn't in attendance, then sneak out the back and drive straight to Bon Temps. If Bill was present, then she would lure him out back, into the storage room maybe. It wasn't a perfect plan, but she had 6 days to improve it. If she could find a way to lose Bobby and Samuel, then maybe she could do it during the day - sneak past his daytime security somehow. But regardless, she wasn't going to be a sitting duck. And she was going to deal with Eric… Later. She hid the wooden stake in her makeup bag inside her purse and got ready for bed.

She didn't regret the plan, but a big part of her regretted what she had said to Eric earlier. She meant to say being his wasn't enough from a practical standpoint. But what C21Olivia had hurt him, she felt the sting right in his chest. His feelings were now impossible to ignore, misunderstand, or misread on purpose, which she now realised she had been doing for a while now. Ignoring right what was in front of her this whole time because it was easier than handling the truth. There were no masks, no fronts, no lies, no space to hide the truth anymore. Their bond made them transparent to each other. But that didn't make their relationship suddenly… Well, become a relationship. Or that she even wanted one to begin with.

When she finally laid her head down on her pillow, she closed her eyes, finally getting to enjoy the silence. But this silence was missing something. Or maybe there was too much of it. Or it was off. She tossed and turned for far too long in her bed watching time tick by on her alarm clock. 2:20 AM, 2:51, 3:34… Her mind just kept her thoughts running on a lousy loop. Even random unsolved childhood mysteries popped up.

She had called home earlier, but her mother wasn't feeling well and had already gone to bed, which sparked more than enough worry to keep anyone awake. Her mom had been sick for four years now, with an incurable disease. Was Olivia doing the right thing - spending all this time away in the name of taking care of her financially? Was that even what she was really doing here or was that a lie she was telling herself too?

Or was it the food? Was she just not used to going to bed with a full stomach? Was it the lack of shower, or the club music fueling her body with adrenaline? No, it was the quiet. Too quiet. The world felt too big, moving too fast, time for rest was slipping by. 4:02 AM.

The noise of the back door opening up echoed through the house, and she prepared herself for the horror movie image of Thalia roaming towards the bathroom again, looking like that woman from the Grudge but with bad hair. But a tall figure appeared in her doorway instead, one with eyes that suddenly made silence comforting instead of crushing.

Eric took his shoes off, and then his shirt, and pants. He quietly joined her in bed, without saying a word. His arm slipped around her rib and rested against her other arm, pressing her against his chest, hugging her like a gasp of air. A wave of warmth instantly hit her, completely relaxing her. She didn't want to ask about Pamela who looked shaken and distraught when she firmly told Olivia to go home out the back in the middle of her shift. She didn't want to ask about the Queen's surprise visit, whom she saw in the security monitors talking to him. She didn't want to bring up Bill Compton, or their argument, what she had said, or their total lack of boundaries (including this one). For now, she just wanted… This. Comfort.

"Just until I fall asleep," she murmured into the darkness.

His head agreed, his face nuzzling into her hair and putting a small kiss right behind her ear. For whatever reason, he seemed to need this as much as she did.

Within minutes she drifted into a dreamy sleep.

AN:

My heart is broken and shattered. I don't know how to describe it but Eric suffering is a special kind of torture. But I hope the sweet ending soothed you as it did me.

xoxo until next week my lovelies