Chapter 58: Beat Your Heart Out

The following two weeks were tense.

Half of the dancers weren't on speaking terms with each other, Portia Bellefleur had hiked up her hourly charge due to the immense amount of work they were drowning her with, and the patrons at the bar were… Well, mostly vampires now. And do you know what vampires don't like doing? Paying for human entertainment. Which of course only exacerbated the strain between the staff, including herself. Olivia was only washing 13% of their drug money through the club, the rest was going through that sleazeball, Anthony Grey. She didn't like any of it. And neither did Eric, who was also as tense and rigid as he could be.

For the untrained eye, Eric was just his usual stoic and icy cold self. It was all business as usual up on his mezzanine, as the Sheriff overlooked his domain enjoying the company of the vampire elite. But Olivia knew he was planning something big. He was talking business, logistics, strategies, conferring with spies he had everywhere, as it was still unclear which avenue Alcide Herveaux would use to strike back - the police force, the federal government, or just his small but growing army of werewolves.

He didn't tell her any of this of course, but Olivia overheard whispers in the club while gathering half-empty bottles for her famous 'strip club soup'. She also kept her ears open whenever she caught Pam on the phone up in the office. Despite Eric taking out several wolves of the pack, Alcide had seemingly joined forces with his father in Mississippi, and other neighbouring packs in Louisiana, Texas, Arkansas and even Florida. A war was brewing.

All she knew she could was making sure this Casino would happen, and it had to happen fucking as soon as possible. They needed old and influential vampires to come and stay, they needed a safe and fast way to wash all the drug money, and they needed clean money to flow freely through their fucking doors. And that was just to stay afloat, never mind going to war.

Eric suddenly waltzed through the office door, music still booming downstairs. He usually didn't come upstairs until closing. Olivia was sitting at her desk inputting numbers on the ledger and putting the cash through the money counter, making several neat stacks of 1000 all across her desk. Most of the money she manipulated was just numbers on a screen, but she thoroughly enjoyed touching live cash. There was something very thrilling and special about it. It felt like touching raw, American power.

"Pam tells me another dancer quit," the vampire Viking said casually and when he noticed her reaction he added. "Tara."

"What? Why?"

"Pregnant."

"Oh," Olivia suddenly stopped counting money and her mind went blank for a minute.

Her first instinct told her the father was Jason Stackhouse, judging by their passionate hookup in the back of his truck at Lafayette's party. He had also gotten a blowjob from Sarah Newlin sometime recently. Man, that boy was trouble.

"That's too bad. I liked her."

"Do you want any?"

Olivia's gaze left the money in front of her and landed on Eric, expecting him to offer her a drink, candy, or some kind of object from his desk. But he just stood there leaning against it, staring back at her with his undivided attention, looking incredibly intimidating and absurdly hot.

"Do I want any what?"

"Babies."

She immediately cracked up. It was a ridiculous question. "Oh, wow, how subtle of you," she managed to say between laughing, but Eric did not find it funny. He continued to stare, waiting for his answer. "No, Eric, I do not want babies. Are you kidding me? My bloodline ends with me."

Thankfully he seemed satisfied with that answer, a reaction she wished her family had. Her mother and aunt wanted grandbabies like, yesterday. Their demands were a downside of visiting them, unfortunately, but she put up with it.

It dawned on her a moment later the seriousness of that simple question. Eric was obviously not human. He would never be able to give her children, even if she ever changed her mind. Which she knows she won't. Olivia would never impose telepathy on another human being, and she didn't trust herself to guide a child with these powers. Even her father had arguably failed at it, and he was a far better telepath than she ever would be. Plus, her life had no place for a child in it. Her world was too dangerous, and she was far too selfish to give up anything she'd ever conquered for a child.

But she knew that question was more important than either of them could put into words. There was a nagging feeling deep in her chest that questioned if Eric's true intentions ran deeper than just caring for her and protecting her. What he felt for her was… She couldn't even say the words in her head. It only added fuel to the fire of guilt and conflict that was burning inside of her, especially when she was about to make things far worse, and far more tense in a minute.

Olivia went back to doing what she did best: counting money. "Why? You think I'm fit to life coach another human, do you?"

He raised his brows. "Oh, I'm sure your kids would be committing felonies before they hit high school."

Your kids. Not ours. She wondered if Eric ever had children of his own, or if he ever wanted to be a father. Did Pam fulfil that wish for him? They hardly seemed to have a father-daughter type of relationship.

She gave him the side-eye, wrapping a bundle of thousand with elastics. "Quickly changing topics, I have something to tell you."

"What is it?"

Deep breath, here we go -"I am taking this weekend off. And before you say anything, please note I am informing you, not asking."

Eric got off his desk and took a step forward, leaning in close. "Oh, it's noted."

His fingers ran through her hair, tucking it behind her ear, then running delicately along the edge of her jaw, making her look up at him instead of the 15 thousand dollars sitting on her desk. She got chills running down her spine and goosebumps everywhere.

"Where are you going?" He whispered as if he were waiting to hear a dirty little secret.

"Not far, just to Havana. I just need to take a breather. A little vacation from all of this," she lied.

"Getting bored of me already?" His eyes looked straight through her as if he could see the shadowy corners of her mind, reading her secrets and deepest desires like a book.

"No," she felt her lips quiver. She wanted to kiss him. "Sometimes I just have to remind myself why I'm doing this."

It was impossible to tell if he believed her or not. It wasn't necessarily a lie, but it wasn't the truth either. She hated that she had to keep secrets from him, but she had to protect her family. Not from him, but from all of this. Okay, maybe a little part of her wanted to protect them from him. The only emotions his eyes gave her were hunger and lust.

"It's just a weekend, Eric-"

"Yes. A vacation sounds nice," he said moments before he took her by storm.

His mouth parted hers and his tongue tasted her with ardour. God, it had been far too long since they kissed. Before she knew it, he had shut the office door and propped her hips on top of her desk, spilling all the stacks of cash everywhere. Paper rained down the floor, covering half the carpet, but she didn't care. She would count it all again a million times over if it meant she could kiss him like this.

He devoured her, his large hands squeezing her everywhere. Her breasts, her waist, her ass, holding her pressed against his statuesque body. His hardness pressed against her middle, and she grinded against it, already drunk with lust. Eric stifled a moan, growling between his teeth. He wanted her body, every inch of it. He wanted to use it to forget, to escape everything and everyone, to get lost in his own little paradise. Olivia would gladly give that to him. She would gladly be his sunshine at the times when he couldn't find any.

There was the sound of his belt getting undone, and he shimmied his black jeans and boxers down his hips revealing how much he wanted her. Her hand couldn't not touch it. His cock was perfect - pale silk over steel, large and intimidating just as he was. At her touch, he shivered and swore under his breath in a language she did not understand. Impatiently, he hiked up her skirt and tore her lace underwear right off.

Her body called out desperately to him. At that moment she didn't want to leave, not even for a second. All she wanted was to get lost in him, in his kisses, in his touch, in his pleasure, in his darkness. His thumb softly invaded her mouth, and her tongue played with it slowly. Eric's hand then moved down and massaged between her legs. A moan escaped her throat, both pleased with his touch and disappointed he was holding back what she really wanted. The teasing may be cruel, but it was done with the kindest of intentions. Eric always made sure she was ready before he entered her, seeing he was much… Bigger than what she was used to.

It was the sweetest of tortures being at his mercy, as his mouth silenced her with more kisses. Eric then entered her - the feeling of him inside her was practically fever-inducing. When he thrusted, she lost herself completely to the sweet darkness. Her arms were wrapped around his shoulders, his arms held her hips as he moved. As the desk rammed against the wall forcefully more and more money cascaded down. It was maddening, the whole thing.

"I wish I could go with you," he whispered in her ear after covering her neck with love bites. "Get away from here."

Her hands travelled through his soft head of blond hair, and their eyes met for a brief moment. She wished they could both break free from all of this more than anything. She wished they could leave it all behind and run before it all came crashing down. Fuck all of it - the drugs, the money, the Casino. She just wanted him. Her heartfelt like it could explode right then and there, and not from lust. Knowing she could leave and he was trapped here forever, knowing they couldn't be together other than through a strange and abstract spell was more than she could bear.

"Just fuck me," Olivia begged quietly. "Just fuck me, please."

He pulled her closer to the edge of the desk and he pinned her legs in place with his arms, keeping her open and still. He fucked her until there wasn't a single thought in her head. Not a single shred of sadness, conflict or guilt. No bittersweet feeling, no knowledge that she was leaving town this weekend to forcefully remind herself that one day-

She would have to leave him behind forever.

The whole world was closing in at his throat.

Eric was buying properties left, right and centre for all the vampire newcomers as suitable vacancies in the area were at an all-time low. Sleeping underground was fine and well for a few nights, but if he wanted permanent settlers, he needed to house them. It helped to be their literal landlord too, as it gave him more leverage and more cash flow which would make Olivia happy for once.

With a surge of vampires in town, there was also an increase in vampire hunters and drainers he had to deal with. Between taking care of Fangtasia and courting city councillors for land approval for the Casino Pamela was far too busy to be of any help. Since they weren't going to be on a stupid riverboat, they needed a logical place to build their castle. Now add the clash against the werewolves, and we had ourselves a perfect shit storm.

And for this weekend he would have to storm it without her. He had a strange feeling in his chest as if he could physically feel the distance between them - and it almost hurt. Not only that, but Eric couldn't help but be haunted by certain ghosts in his mind. A haunting feeling about her whole Havana getaway just didn't sit quite right with him. He didn't know if it was the timing, or her tone, or her mesmerizingly docile eyes when she asked him - no, told him. Hopefully, it was nothing of importance and that he would find the answers he wanted, not the ones he feared.

As he was crossing the crowded club floor, he noticed a gentleman walk in his usual charcoal 70s suit and a polished black cane. His hollow and dark beady eyes found him, and most vampires who took notice of him fell silent. The short bald man, who resembled death himself, approached him. There would be no other reason for him to be here if it weren't to talk to him.

"Magister," Eric nodded at Jorge Alfonso De San Diego.

"Mr. Northman, it has been a while," he nodded, gripping onto the walking cane. It's been said that he had been mauled by a pack of coyotes as a young man and never quite healed. Eric did not believe that for one fucking second. Nothing about him was trustworthy. "Since the Anthony Grey trial, I believe."

"Yes, sir, it's been…" Not fucking long enough. Eric knew he hadn't missed a court hearing, or that this visit was scheduled. Pam was busy, but not so busy she would have forgotten to tell him the Magister was coming. "Too long. May I ask what brings you to Fangtasia?"

"We need to talk, my dear boy. In private."

Eric escorted the old vampire all the way up to the mezzanine. It would be good to have his vassals witness the kind of company their Sheriff kept, and it seemed Jorge Alonso was fine with the audience. Eric nodded for Gerald to wait at the bottom of the steps and not let anyone come up.

"No one can hear us," Eric assured him after they sat down. "To whom or what do I owe your undivided attention, your honour?"

"There is trouble abound, it seems," the man stared at him blankly. Usually, guests' eyes wandered across the stage below, enamoured with the talented and attractive dancers, but not him. He had come with a purpose.

The missing Collector? The Queen's debts? Werewolves? Vampire politics? Human politics? The Fellowship of the Sun? The drugs? There were so many reasons for Jorge Alonso to be here it almost made him sweat. The Magister riding on his ass was the last thing he needed right now.

"Tell me."

"I hear the wolves have broken your truce law," he nodded concerned.

Thank fucking God - "You have heard correctly, yes."

"Unprovoked?"

Eric shifted in his seat, weighing how much of his reasons he should disclose. "Their previous leader was a sore loser. We won the bid for the Casino and he made a very personal, albeit pathetic, move against me that could not have gone unanswered."

"Animals, the lot of them," Jorge Alonso scoffed, unsurprised. "It was impressive it lasted this long, to be quite frank. Is their new leader more amicable?"

Alcide Herveaux? He immediately bit his own cheek so hard it bled, but it was the only way for him not to burst out laughing. After a calculated moment, Eric answered. "We don't see eye to eye, no."

"War is always expensive. Can Sophie-Ann add this to her ever-growing plate?" He raised his brow. It was common gossip that the Queen lived a lifestyle much more lavish than she could afford, especially when she never quite rebuilt her Empire as she should have after Katrina. If only they knew half of it.

"I pay for my own fights, sir."

"Very well, very well," he leaned back with a stiff smile, impressed. "If you do not receive the support you need, do not hesitate to reach out. We just lost Wyoming to the wolves, and Alaska may be next. We cannot allow this momentum to continue. Losing Louisiana would be a paramount loss."

"You need not to worry, sir. We have the numbers to wipe them all out if need be. But I appreciate your allegiance, it will not be forgotten."

It was better to have the Magister on his side than against him. There was only so much pressure Eric could take. Having him as an enemy would definitely topple this fucking house of cards and bury him once and for all.

"I am sure," he nodded, but he did not get up.

Eric felt ice in his veins. This verbal pat on the back bullshit could have been a phone call. Jorge Alonso was a busy man and he would not come all the way out here just for mere pleasantries. No, there was something more to warrant his presence tonight.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?"

"Keep your ears open for me, Mr. Northman. There are vile things happening in the shadows," he murmured, making sure absolutely no one could hear them. His lips barely moved at all.

"What kind of things?"

"Our blood is being bought and sold on the online black markets. People ordering our sacred and pure blood off the internet, like a fucking Sears catalogue," his face was still as stone, and his voice was barely a breath, but his emotion was cold wrath.

Every muscle in his body clenched at once. "That is absolutely shameful to hear."

"It is a desecration," he continued with pure disgust, as he couldn't even say the words without shame. "Texas, Arkansas and Mississippi all seem to be competing on who's to become the V capital of the world. Have you noticed an uptick in users in your region? Perhaps in your club?"

Ignorance was the best discourse here. "I haven't, no."

"See, that is surprising to me," the Magister shifted in his chair, standing up straighter. Shit. "Every other Louisiana Sheriff I've spoken to has. And the number of users is so great that we can only assume that a vampire is responsible."

God fucking dammit. Eric felt as if someone was actually grabbing him by the throat, and he needed to breathe. He needed a lung full of air but there wasn't any. There was no air for miles. How did he know? Their operation was spread so countrywide that it would be impossible for Magister to narrow it down not only to vampires but to him. When you need information, feign ignorance.

"Respectfully your honour, I am not sure I follow your logic."

"If your average run-of-the-mill drainers were behind this, it would stand to reason that said drainers would need vampires to drain, which means there would be missing vampires and plenty of them. How many vampires have gone missing in your area?"

He weighed the pros and cons of telling him Bill Compton, Longshadow and some others were missing. But that would only put Jorge Alonso down a path he did not want him to go. This tightrope he walked on was getting narrower by the second. "None, Magister."

"So, now do you follow my logic?"

Fuck- "I do. And I will look into the matter immediately."

Jorge gave him a cold sterile smile as if he didn't quite remember the mechanics of the movement quite right. "I must get going now, Mr. Northman. Congratulations on the Casino, I can tell you I am beyond pleased with your recent prosperity and I wish you the fastest resolve with the Long Tooth pack."

He then buttoned his blazer and stood up promptly. Eric followed, relieved this nightmare was half over. Damn, Alonso was good. It was no wonder he was judge, jury and executioner of all 56 North American Kingdoms. But this did not bode well for him whatsoever. He was being pushed into a corner, forced to face his Queen. He would have to make her stop. Could they even stop at this point?

"Thank you, sir. I will investigate and give you the results you seek."

Jorge Alonso took three steps down the mezzanine and paused. It wasn't a short recess to look at the dancers, however. He turned around, looking up at Eric with the most discrete grin. He wasn't quite done yet.

"Good. But I must tell you, Mr. Northman," Jorge Alonso had a dark look on his face. "I just find it curious that every state surrounding you is dirty, but Louisiana is not. Don't you think so?"

The Queen. He knew. That was the card he was hiding all along.

"I will do what must be done, your honour."

Whatever the fuck that is. The club suddenly felt too small. Too full. The tight rope he had been balancing on all these years had been cut. As if he had blacked out for a few seconds, he suddenly found himself in the back hallway, entering his empty office. She wasn't here. Olivia wasn't here, she had left for Cuba this morning, but he so desperately needed her right now. The moment they had on this very desk the night before was just a sip, and he wanted to drown in whatever that was. She was the air he needed, the blood he craved, the reason-

"You good?" Pamela's raspy voice came from behind him.

Eric paced back and forth around his desk. "No."

"Then brace yourself, cause it's about to get worse. The city councillors all but told me to go fuck myself at the town hall. They want to put the Casino out in Sligo."

"Where?"

"Exactly."

"I can't do this right now, Pam. Just fucking fix it!" He yelled.

"Fine!" She barked back, annoyed at his angry tone. "Then I'll need Thalia for the weekend."

Eric shook his head. The hole just kept getting deeper and deeper. There was no fucking bottom to this fucking pit. "Find somebody else. There's like a hundred vampires downstairs dying to do your bidding."

"I don't trust anyone else!" she whined loudly, like a spoiled child. "If I'm gonna force some fuckin' hands in this town I need you or her!"

"Thalia is in Havana."

"You have got to be joking," Pam widened her stance, her piercing blue eyes stabbing him. "What the fuck is she doing in Havana?!"

"Protecting Olivia."

She boldly stomped towards him, pressing her body against him. He knew his progeny mirrored him when she was pissed off. But she didn't yell. It was a desperate, pleading whisper. "You have to stop."

"You know I can't."

"Can't or won't?!" She exploded. "If the Queen dropped dead today and that edict of protection ended, would you still go to all these lengths to protect her?!"

Had she really been this blind this entire time?

"Do you really think I've been doing this because of the Queen's fucking orders?!" He pushed past her, not appreciating her closeness. Didn't she know him? Hadn't she been paying attention? "I'm protecting her because I can't lose her!"

"For God's sake, Eric! She's basically a human! Why would you bother?!"

Eric seemingly found the air he needed, because he roared. "Because I love her, Pamela! I love her-"

Pamela stood in his office very, very still. She didn't roll her eyes, she didn't condemn him, cry or yell. She looked at him as if she were staring at a stranger, and it fucking stung like silver. It hurt almost as much as releasing her. Gods what he wouldn't give to take her back. Olivia had been a wonderful distraction from the pain. But it was there, burning and bleeding, fresh and imposing just as the night he did it.

"Say something," he sighed.

"Are you going to turn her?" Her voice was cold.

His pocket vibrated - his cellphone ringing urgently. He reached for it, instinctually hoping it would be Olivia. But it was Thalia, whom he had sent to chase the ghosts of his own mind. He had sent her to observe his accountant during this suspicious impromptu so-called vacation. The official reason was for protection of course. But a tiny part of him knew there was more to it. He wanted to know what she needed a vacation from. Eric braced for the answer he did not want to hear.

"Speak." He commanded.

"I don't know how else to tell you this, sir," Thalia had a pissed-off but urgent tone in her voice. "But Olivia Carson isn't here."

AN:

Ok, I lied. NOW things have gone from bad to worse. I'm still not done next chapter, as it is a big one. It is the single most important one for character development for a certain someone who's riding the fence pretty hard on the matters of the heart - but you will also (hopefully) better understand her reasons. I HOPE to post it next week, but I'm not going to rush it.

Thank you so much to everyone who always leaves such kind words, especially those who stuck with this story from the beginning:

Nina5, FanFicGirl5000, TLynnson, Ashies, Nicole1977, Dax, Shamelessly Reckless, str8jacket, dirtygoldensoul, Raging Raven, Piso29 and SO many others. You all make me feel so loved!

As usual: favorite, follow and leave a comment below!

xoxo