Chapter 54: Wham Bam

Enemies rise, enemies fall, same as usual.

He sat on his throne surrounded by the same girls, the same vampires and the same mundane people, under the familiar red lights, listening to the same music just like every night. It didn't feel decadent, powerful, important or interesting anymore. He was here as a showpiece for others to gawk at, just like any of the dancers. His presence felt like an obligation, not as a gift.

Maybe staying busy would feel better, or at least would make him feel... Something. A shred of purpose and control perhaps. Eric went up to his office to make phone calls, run more background checks, and he granted the permanent residence to another three vampires. There was a lineup of people at the bar, all waiting to speak to Pamela, and not to buy the same overpriced drinks they sold each night.

But nothing was the same.

What had happened last night… No, what happened today was a lot to take in, even for him. He wasn't even entirely sure it was real. The warmth on his skin. The way the whole world glittered. The colours, so many beautiful colours he hadn't seen in over a thousand years. Colours he had forgotten, shades and hues he maybe had never even seen before. The buzzing of insects, the songs of birds. Godric had given him the eternal night. Olivia had given him the day. It would be overwhelming for any sane person, but he felt suspicious of it. He remembered the Queen's vague words.

What she can do… It scares me.

Being scared was putting it lightly. Eric was fucking terrified. He could day walk. Joining her had fundamentally changed what he was. What was he now exactly? Was he still a vampire? Something more? Something different? Every passing second he felt was about to lose it all. He had flown too high, and he was doomed to fall.

What would others do if they found out what he could do? What would they do if they found out about fairies or the joining? What would he do if he lost her? Would he spend another thousand years longing and yearning for her? Would he become heartless and cruel like Sophie-Anne? Was his Queen trying to fill the void Olivia left, or the sunlight?

Eric had learned over and over again that bad things happen to people he loves. But yet, he felt absolutely whole with her. Power felt sweeter, burdens felt lighter, his purpose was clear when he had her in his arms. Yes, he knew it was some old love magic or some other kind of bullshit, but letting her go would feel like cutting his own heart out. He was now slave to his own promises. He knew if he broke them now if he trapped her by her side she would wither like a flower. And that would solely be on him. Eric knew he would end up broken-hearted either way. Loving her was a losing game and he would just have to… Cherish while he had her.

In his human life, in his vampire life, in all the eleven hundred years he's lived, he never had something so precious. Something so beautiful and remarkable. They couldn't turn back the clock and just keep pretending everything was the same. He couldn't just slip into her bed and be exiled before the sunrise. No.

Now he could stay.

"You look different," Pamela said entering the office, strutting tall with a red latex catsuit.

Pam was speaking to him again. That was different.

"Different how?" He asked seriously. If anyone could tell what Eric had done today, it would be his progeny. Nobody knew him as she did, and nothing went unnoticed to her eyes.

"Well fed," she smirked. "I take it she's fully blood bound to you?"

He deflected her gaze. "For now."

She cocked a brow, taking a seat on the black leather couch. "Don't tell me you're bored already. Is her blood not as decadent as you wanted it to be?"

Insulting. "Olivia is on a contract with the Queen, and she has no intention of renewing."

Pamela frowned for a moment, her brain stringing everything she knew about Olivia together. "How long?"

"Eight years, give or take."

A long silence went by. Eight years was nothing. But at the same time… It was a long time responsible for her, to keep her safe. He knew now that she was at less risk of dying, due to the joining, but being immortal did not mean you were immune to dying. She could still be killed. He still had to protect her, and there wasn't a shortage of people willing to hurt her. Plus, there were worse things than death, that he knew too.

"Dammit, Eric! You judge me for keeping pets around, then you get yourself a human with a span of a dog?"

Pamela was right. Yet, he loved her anyway.

A redhead strolled into the office, skipping like a little girl. Jessica Hamby, Bill's child, had obviously received one of Pamela's famous makeovers. The baby vampire now looked like an edgy goth school girl in a cheap porno. Dark red plaid skirt, leather bustier, high knee socks with heels, pigtails and heavy eyeliner.

She smiled at him hungrily. "Oh, you're cute. Can I sit on your lap?"

"No." He told her off immediately.

Why on earth would any self-respecting vampire turn a teenage girl? They were mean and whiny little creatures, full of hormones and adding death to the mix was basically creating a tiny antichrist. But regardless, he had sent Bill Compton to the bottom of the Red River and he wasn't going to let a baby vampire roam free. Jessica did not have to pay for the sins of her Maker. She didn't even know how to hunt or feed properly. Plus, Pamela enjoyed personal projects.

"Where is she tonight?" Pam nodded at Olivia's empty chair.

The empty chair was different too. His accountant was always here, but he knew she needed time to heal and process. Or maybe he did.

"I gave her the night off. What do you need?"

"How long do I have to feed my special drink to this one?" Pamela asked in Old Norse, their secret language.

"Indefinitely."

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Please don't tell me you tossed him in the fucking river…"

"What are you guys saying?" Jessica drone, frustrated for not understanding what they were saying and not at all getting that it was the very fucking point.

"The Queen owed him too much money, so it would look suspicious if he suddenly died. The girl is the only way for the Authority to confirm his true death."

"What is that even? Cantonese?"

Pamela pressed her lips, glaring at Jessica. She was clearly tired of the burden already. "You got lucky last winter rained a lot, and Longshadow don't got a Maker anymore for us to worry about. But what happens when the next drought hits and the river dries up?"

"What, you're worried about global warming now?"

Pamela glared at him, but she was right.

Eric knew his solution wasn't permanent. If the river dried out as it often did in the winter, Bill would either manage to escape the clay trap during the night or be exposed to the sun during the day. Which meant Eric would have to take care of it while Jessica rested during the day. An odd thing, knowing he could do that now.

"Keep her drugged. Hopefully, she won't feel a thing when he dies while she's day resting."

"And if he dies during the night?"

He won't, but Pamela did not need to know what he could do. For now, Bill Compton would suffer as long as the Red River flowed.

"I am bored!" Jessica stated loudly. "Oh! I know! Can I be a stripper? That would be like, sooooo much fun!"

"No, jailbait, you cannot," Eric snapped at her. Being 17 she wasn't even supposed to be in the building, vampire or not.

"But I am so bored!" She cried.

Eric stood up, and he felt Jessica's eyes take all of him in. She bit her lip, again liking what she saw and being bold enough to show it. Not in a million fucking years but there was something he needed to do that she could tag along.

"Have you ever been to a werewolf bar, little one?"

"Ooh! No, I haven't but that sounds so fun!" Jessica made an excited face, eyes full of wonder. Newborns were so cute.

"Have you lost your fucking mind?" Pamela bravely raised her voice. "We don't cross turf lines! I don't know if it's all that good pussy you've been having that's messing with upstairs your brain, but you made a deal with the dogs way back when this one was still shitting in diapers."

It had been the deal Eric made with Patrick Furnan, the leader of the Long Tooth pack, over fifteen years ago. Vampires and werewolves had been living peacefully (ish) ever since. Werewolves did not come to Fangtasia uninvited, vampires did not go to the Rose Crown uninvited. Neither attacked each other. Vampires did not deal weed and opioids to humans, werewolves did not drain vampires for profit or fun. Those were the terms of the agreement.

The Newlins weren't from here and they weren't clever enough or well connected enough to gather that small army that attempted to take him down last night. Those motorcycles chasing them last night along with the trucks? There was only one bike gang in town, the same one that hung out at the Rose Crown, the one and only werewolf bar. And it was Patrick Furnan who owned the local Harley-Davidson dealership. It's like he didn't even bother hiding it. Furnan wanted him to know it had been him because he didn't expect Eric to walk out of the trap alive. Peace between vampires and werewolves in Area 5 ended the second he agreed to help Steve and Sarah Newlin kill him.

And need I remind you they hurt Olivia?

"Oh yes, Pamela. The deal is off. Way fucking off."

The place smelled disgusting and they didn't even enter yet. Stale cigarettes, sweat, cheap beer and piss. Pamela, Eric and Jessica strutted across the gravel parking lot of the Rose Crown. It was filled with motorcycles, beat-up Camry's and rusty pick-up trucks, perfectly reflecting the low-brow clientele of this place. A group of men with leather vests, scruffy neckbeards and dirty poorly fit jeans were smoking on the covered porch just below the neon blue sign that lit up the entire parking lot. The Rose Crown was the definition of a southern dive bar, with live country music blaring inside. Pamela hated absolutely everything about this place. She hated even more why they were here. Eric had told her why he didn't come to Fangtasia or home last night. How fucking DARED they lay a trap for her Maker? Pamela knew right then and there that a lot of blood was about to be spilled. She knew they were going to paint the streets of Shreveport red.

She was okay with it. This place could use a bit of redecorating.

Eric lead their small little pack, and Pamela glared at Jessica to stop fucking smiling. Jesus fuck, who raised this girl? Did she have any idea what was about to go down? The werewolves had broken the truce law first, but knowing Eric he was about to blow up this hornet's nest. She just hoped he had some sort of plan in his brilliant sexy mind, and that this wasn't Rio de Janeiro in 1932 all over again. That got very messy very fast.

The men straightened up and put down their beer bottles. "What do you want fanger?"

"Get me Patrick Furnan," Eric told the men, standing a little too close to them for Pam's comfort. They should have brought Thalia and Gerald for this.

"Fuck you! He don't gotta talk to no deader," a werewolf growled.

This was going to be a long night. "I know y'all collectively share the same five brain cells but do have any idea who you're talking to?"

The tensions became suddenly higher, their eyes watched them like prey. These dumbasses really didn't know who the fuck they were dealing with.

"He could be fuckin' Jesus incarnate. Vamps and ain't welcome here, bitch."

More werewolves poured out the front doors. A few walked in from the sidewalk, others the kitchen door on the building's far left. They were slowly becoming surrounded by the wolves. Jessica stood closer to Pamela, eyes wide watching the swarm forming around them. She no longer found this little outing entertaining, but it would do her a world of good for her to learn being a vampire is not all blood, sex and parties. It was mostly that, but there was a fair amount of danger, power and politics involved, and if she was gonna make it in this world, she had to be ready for anything.

The double doors at the centre of the porch swung open, and a burly man in his 50s strolled out confidently. He was the better dressed of the bunch, or at least the only one with clean clothes. Of course, being somewhat a prominent businessman in the town, he had to look the part. Patrick broke out of the pack, standing in front of Eric who towered over the shorter but wider man. The music cut out inside, and other than the heavy breathing of the dogs, there was a menacing silence in the lot as the two men stared at each other.

"Surprised to see me?" Eric said smugly.

Patrick's face twitched in anger. His pupils were blown to black, eyes on the target. He did not expect to see Eric standing there.

"Someone's been a very bad dog," he teased. It was typical for Eric to not take any enemy seriously to their face.

"Fuck you, Northman. What do you want?"

But the joke was over because Eric's voice went calm and cold. "I want the heads of every single wolf who chased me last night - or yours - delivered to me by sunrise. Your choice."

If Eric wasn't so distracted with Olivia right now, Pamela would fuck him the second they got home. His brilliance, his precision, his moves were so fucking calculated it was like watching an artist work. See, the Shreveport pack leader had a deliciously impossible choice to make. Sacrifice a number of his own pack to pay the price of his own stupid mistake, or own up to it himself. His pack would lose all their faith and respect for him if Furnan chooses the first, and the pack will lose all their strength and leadership if he chooses the second. They were fucked either way you sliced this shit pie.

Joining forces with the Newlins was not making a deal with the angel. Or the devil, but that would be giving them far too much credit. Only one thing was certain: these wolves were all collectively fucked no matter what Furnan chooses. This is why you don't cross Eric fucking Northman.

"I will not stand here and be threatened by the likes of you," Patrick growled.

"Then fight me, like you should have done to begin with," Eric's tone changed to a much more serious one. "But teaming up with Steve Newlin? That is low, even for you."

"I've spent literally three years planning to build that Casino! You took what was fucking mine!"

"Yours?" Pamela chuckled. "Your name was never on it. Ain't my fault the Gaming Commissioner prefers blondes."

And... You know. Having the Governor in your pocket helped a tad.

"She's right," Eric said. "That was business, and what you did was personal. Now you pay with your head, or theirs."

"Or you'll what?" Patrick took a step forward, and the swarm got closer.

Pam quickly counted 28 of them, breathing and growling all around them. They were stupid to think we were the ones outnumbered. It took a lot more than that to overpower her and her Maker.

"Perhaps I'll pay a little home visit," Eric smiled. "Catch up with dear Libby. I hope she's aged better than you."

That did him in. "Get anywhere near my wife, and I will tear every fucking vampire in this town limb from limb!"

Eric smiled at the pathetic threat. "I'll make sure to come with an empty stomach then."

Did Furnan even know their numbers were on the rise and set to literally double in the upcoming months? Werewolves were practically an endangered species, and judging by this deplorable bunch, it was evident mother nature was just correcting itself. The Long Tooth pack did not stand a very good chance if this turned into an all-out war.

Her Maker shot her a glance, and she knew it was their cue to leave. Pamela held onto Jessica tightly and three of them shot upwards into the sky. Jessica clung to her for dear life, holding in a yelp. Pamela didn't blame her, flying was not her preferred method of travel either. It didn't help that Pam wasn't particularly good at it, and they almost hit a power cable or two. When they landed, Jessica's face was three different shades of green. She stumbled over the dumpster, doing deep breaths over the metal edge. She was such a dramatic baby.

"Do you think Furnan will pay the price?" Pamela asked Eric as they headed inside.

"No, I don't," he answered without looking back, walking towards his throne. His eyes were somehow blue even under the red lights. "But I don't think he'll kill his own either."

"Eric," Pamela called out.

Her Maker turned around, looking both breathtakingly beautiful and deadly as ever. He held control over her no longer. Not by blood, by magic or by command. In many ways, she was just like any vampire under this roof.

But Eric Northman still was and would always be her Maker. Bond or not, she would always honour him each night she lived. Pamela understood what she had done to Olivia had been wrong, she had reacted out of fear. She should have trusted Eric, just as she trusted him with her whole life. But she had been weak. She focused on the insecure part of herself that wasn't used to seeing Eric go so far for someone who wasn't his kin, or himself. Her Maker was willing to go to the end of the Earth for Olivia Carson. Pamela should have trusted that he would come back from it victorious. Ironically she had tried to prevent a war, and one was about to break out anyway. Pamela would be his second in command, as she had been chosen for. She would not falter him. It was time to call on alliances, gather resources, rally all the vampires who had sworn their allegiance to their Sherriff. It was time to see what they were really made of.

"How many vampires should I gather?"

"None," he told her quietly. "I will take care of it myself."

She frowned, disappointed. Eric was bred for war, raised to be a warrior, created by death himself to be the strongest and deadliest vampire who had walked this Earth. The only thing more impressive than his speed and power was his genius brain. Eric Northman was always three steps ahead of everyone. But taking on a prominent werewolf pack leader all by himself was… Insanity. Especially after tonight, Furnan and his wife would be surrounded by his strongest wolves, waiting with guns and firepower. She pictured again what the wolves and Newlins did to Eric and Olivia in that abandoned cottage. She imagined what Eric must have felt watching another human woman die because of him.

Fear struck her again. Was this about revenge... Or redemption?

"You don't have to do this alone, Eric. Let me help you-"

"Don't worry about me," he told her with a smug smile. "I'll come for him when he least expects it."

Olivia took a long shower and washed her hair three times. Each time, her brain failed to register that she had already done it, and before she could stop herself, she was massaging Argan oil shampoo on her scalp again.

Every time she looked down on her body, the only visible damage she could see were the half-healed stitches on her thigh. No bruises, no scratches, nothing felt broken, swollen or out of place. The throbbing pain she so vividly remembered from her shattered tibia, had left no trace. Nothing even hurt, not even her head. It's like nothing had happened at all, but everything had happened.

She was immortal.

Dumping half a bottle of conditioner all over her head, she stood against the tile wall for a long while before rinsing. When she got out of the shower, she wiped the steam off the mirror and looked at her wet self.

Immortal.

There was an unforeseen cost to be Eric Northman's. Their deal was one that certainly looked good on paper, but it also very much felt like… A trap, somehow. Liv had put herself in a cage, and somehow also allegedly held the key.

She didn't think Eric had lied about not knowing the consequences of the bond, she actually, for whatever fucking reason, believed him. She had been too angry at the moment to see it, but the look on his face while he leaned against the old school building watching the sunset did not lie. He found it bittersweet. The way his body became more comfortable as the darkness took over told her he was not after the ability to day walk. He cherished it, yes, but he did not seek it. The sun was not what he wanted. She was what he wanted.

Liv took a deep breath, trying to keep the tears at bay. She had cried enough.

"I'll just look like a young and hot 35 year old," she told the woman in the mirror. "It's free botox, that is all this is."

But what if she remained immortal?

Dr. Ludwig herself told them no one really knew how this joining thing worked. What would her family say when they realized Olivia remained the same? Who would she have when they passed away? Would she live out her retired dreams into eternity? She hadn't budgeted for forever. Would she be stuck in this line of job for fucking ever?!

No.

For as long as you both wish for it to be.

Since when did she fucking wish to be?! Olivia grabbed the edges of the sink, steadying herself, looking at her own face closer in the mirror trying to find a smidge of proof that she had changed. Proof that this had been real.

And while she… Still agreed to be bound to him, a conflicting feeling whispered from her heart. The feeling of being with him. The feeling of his eyes on her. The comfort she found in their bond, the silence of Eric's arms, the sex, the kisses, the intensity, growing attached to him. This one hell of a fucking cage.

This place, these people, this was becoming… Too comfortable. It was a betrayal to herself, to what she wanted, to everything she had ever sacrificed and worked for. Liv had to remember why she was here - to help her family, and to free herself. Nothing more. She couldn't allow herself to like him. To fall for him. To feel for him.

"Remember the rules," she told the woman looking back at her in the mirror. "Remember your fucking rules!"

Her brain replayed every strong emotion she felt last night. She was sad they were out of time. She was sorry for the things that had gone unsaid. She felt guilty for putting Eric in danger. She felt happy that she was able to save him. She realized she was many, many things, but she was not afraid of dying.

Losing her father while so young deeply twisted her own view on death. See, grief is not something you get over, it's something you learn to live with. It's a weight you learn to carry with you. Mourning becomes a habit, like breathing. You just never forget it. Her father forever lived in her, in her memories, in her emotions.

But if she were truly immortal, that meant no one would ever mourn her. She would be the one left behind doing all the mourning on her own.

It may sound completely insane, but that thought filled her with immense sadness. For her, missing, mourning and grieving became synonymous with loving her father. The thought that no one would ever love her like that was harrowing. Olivia wouldn't be missed if she lived forever, and her love for everyone she's ever cared about would become grief. She didn't know if she could carry it all.

But even if the joining hadn't happened, who exactly would mourn her?

If Liv had died last night her family would be devastated, and that would be awful and unimaginable, yes. But if she succeeded, if she retired and lived the adventurous life she so deeply wanted once she was free - who would mourn her in 50 years? Olivia did not get attached to people, things, houses or places - it was part of the rules. She did not let people in and even kept her own family at a healthy distance of 6 states between them. Was that for their protection or her own? What was she afraid of?

She remembered those plane tickets she bought for Tommy's birthday party. She never actually cancelled them. Maybe she should go. She should go and remind herself of the real reason she was here. It wasn't for him. It wasn't for immortality. It was for fucking money.

Trying not to dwell too much in the absolute fuckery and sudden meaninglessness of her entire life, Liv dried off her hair with a towel and went to bed. When her head hit the pillow, she studied the light shining through the curtains. She could see the shadows move on her ceiling from Thalia doing silent energy practice in her backyard. Once the shadows stopped, she knew he would come. And once he did, he could stay.

Tears welled up in her eyes. There was someone.

Olivia knew that dead or gone, Eric Northman would mourn her. God, she would mourn him too.

For the rest of her life.

A.N

YOU GUYS! She loves him T-T

This was one HELL of a setup chapter goddamn! I am still stuck with some points in the upcoming chapters but the worse part is that I've had either ZERO time or energy to write lately. Wish me some rest, peace and quiet y'all because I am TIRED

xoxo until next week (hopefully)