Diantha bailed on dinner plans the second I mentioned Danny would be joining us, though she did stick around long enough to meet him again and give him her frank appraisal. "You're hot," she'd said, much to my mortification. Danny had simply laughed, taking it in stride, and thanked her.

He came bearing several gifts; a bouquet of cheerful flowers and chocolates. Adding to that, he brought a salad and some crusty bread from the nearby French boulangerie to pair with our dinner. He was making an effort, so I smiled, pleasure bubbling inside me, and I thanked him warmly.

I'd marinated some pork chops and Danny insisted on cooking them himself on the poolside grill. He also brought a six pack of beers for us to share. "You strike me as a woman who enjoys her beer," he said. And well, he wasn't wrong about that either. The Dogwood had certainly helped me develop a taste for the stuff.

We opted to sit on the outdoor patio furniture and eat our meals as the sun set on another balmy New Orleans' day. It was quite the setting, with the tropical pool-side garden ensconcing us and the sky awash in warm hues of orange, pink and purple. A birthday I wouldn't forget.

"Your roommate is interesting," Danny said, taking a swig of beer. "I've seen her around at the courts before."

"She's hard to miss. She works as a runner for the firm. She's also Desmond's niece."

"Ah," he replied as if it made perfect sense. I guess it kinda did. While she passed as human there was something decidedly un-human about her.

The dinner was enjoyable, the conversation flowed easily between us. I liked the way his eyes shone with excitement as he told me a little about his current big case at his work, and I liked how his face lit up as he spoke of plans to visit South Korea with his mom and sisters later in the year. I liked the way his broad hands wrapped so surely around his beer bottle and the way he tilted his head and leaned just-so toward me whenever I spoke. There was a lot to like about this man, and it was all wonderfully problem-free.

Once it was dark, we moved to sit on the banana lounges by the pool. I leaned right back in the lounge and crossed my ankles, sighing contentedly.

"Good day?" he asked, passing me another beer. I uncapped it and took a long sip.

"Good day," I confirmed. "I can't say I see all the fuss about turning 30. It's been great so far."

His smiling eyes met mine and then drifted down over my arms, pausing at a scar. The scar where Sweetie Des Arts shot me all those years ago. "You've lived an interesting life, haven't you?"

I hugged my side self-consciously tugging up my light cardigan. The shoulder of it had slipped down to reveal the bare flesh of my arm. "I guess you could say that. It's certainly been more interesting than I ever wanted it to be."

"I Googled you."

"You what now?"

"I Googled you, I looked you up online when I first met you."

"Now why would you go and do a thing like that?" I propped myself up a little more so I could see him clearly. Was he purposefully digging for dirt on me?

"I'm a lawyer. Research is as natural for me as breathing," he said it with a slight smile. I frowned at him. "Would it be better if I admitted I was actually looking for pictures of you?" he said.

"No!" I cried and swatted him lightly.

He chuckled and rested his arm casually behind his head. "Are you telling me you've never Googled yourself?"

"Can you not say it like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like it's–like it's dirty," I hissed, dropping my voice several decibels.

He laughed again and then I did too.

"What did you find out, then?" I asked playfully.

"Not a lot, really."

"Now I know that's not true." We grinned at each other. "I assure you my laundry list of shenanigans and calamities are no indication of who I really am."

"And who are you really?"

I chewed my lip as I considered the question. I wasn't sure if anyone had ever asked me that before—asked me who I thought I really was. "A young woman trying to get by and make a good life for herself," I finally said.

He smiled at this and a second later his lips were pressed against mine. Moments after that we were engaged in a full-on make out session.

I climbed atop him on his chair as his hands roamed across the planes of my back, reaching up to stroke my hair and neck, sending tingles up and down my spine. I explored his arms and chest with my own hands. He was warm and pleasingly defined. I thanked my lucky stars for the millionth time that my best friend happened to be the best witch in New Orleans who just happened to give the best birthday presents.

We parted, breathless and grinning like school kids. "When you said casual dinner and a movie with your roommate, this was not what I pictured," he said. His hair was poking up at the back, a total 180 from the usual strait-laced lawyerly neatness.

"I'm not sure I trust myself to invite you into my apartment, even to watch a movie," I said. I trailed my finger across his faintly stubbled cheek. I was all revved up, ready and raring to go. Dry spell couldn't begin to adequately describe how sorry my love life had been. It had been so long, I was pretty sure I'd become a virgin all over again.

He pulled me close again, resting his forehead to mine, his bottom lip brushing mine just so.

"Any birthday wishes, then?" he asked, voice low and soft. His hand was coasting a tantalizing trail under the shirt on my back. He kissed me again before I could answer, sucking my lower lip into his mouth, our tongues brushing, my fingers in his hair, his hand moving to cup my breast.

"I couldn't wish for anything right now if I tried," I responded hoarsely.

"Are you sure?" His hand had slipped under the thin cotton of my bra and his finger stroked lightly across my nipple. Desire coiled through me like a deep ache. I stifled a moan and kissed him for all I was worth.

I could've kept it going, and the debauched part of me wanted to desperately, but we eventually, reluctantly, parted at my urging. I wasn't gonna let it go this far in view of my neighbors, and I certainly had no intention of going all the way this early into dating him.

We called it a night early, since Danny had court the next day. I pulled my cardigan tightly around me and walked him out to his car. He kissed me once more, unhurried and sweet, wrapping his arm loosely across my shoulders.

"Please," came a voice, dry as the Sahara, from somewhere near the gate, "by all means, don't let me interrupt."

I froze against Danny, recognizing the speaker instantly. I gently pressed my date away from me and exhaled. What a way to end the night.

"I'll see you soon, Danny," I said.

"What's going on? Who is it?" He squinted over my shoulder toward the source of our disruption. Eric stepped out of the darkness, trademark smirk in place right alongside that damned twinkle in his eye.

"Eric Northman," he said, introducing himself. He was taller than Danny by several significant inches and taller than me by a good twelve, forcing the two of us to look up at him. "I don't believe we've met.".

There was no offer of a handshake. I grabbed Danny's arm to stifle any attempt to offer one.

"Danny Sullivan," I said. "This is Eric. Eric this is Danny, my friend and prosecutor for the Orleans parish District Attorney's office."

"I hope you haven't found yourself in more trouble, Sookie?" Eric arched a brow.

"If I have, it's only because you've arrived," I snapped. Eric chuckled appreciably and winked at Danny.

"I'm the former husband," he explained.

Danny, though still somewhat concerned, turned his dark assessing gaze to me. "Want me to stay?"

"No, it's fine. I suspect Eric is here on official business. Is that right, Eric?" I turned to the lout in question, shooting him a look that dared him to say any different and risk facing my wrath.

"You would be right," Eric confirmed with a slight nod. After a little more awkward back and forth, Danny bid us goodnight, kissed me on the cheek and drove off into the night in his black Audi sedan. Eric waved cheerfully.

"What do you want?" I asked, watching as the taillights disappeared around the corner.

"Why do you assume I want something?"

"You always want something."

"Quite true," he said, flashing his teeth as he smiled at me. "May I come in?"

"Fine. Come in." My need to know the current state of affairs won over any misgivings I held about inviting him onto home turf. "But first, how's Thalia?"

"Enraged, irritated. Ready to take someone's head."

"So... No different to usual?"

He laughed, as did I after a beat. He followed me down the stone path to the pool area. I caught his eye and gently touched his arm. "I'm sorry to hear about the passing of your wife. I hope you're doing okay."

A faint look of surprise passed across his features like translucent clouds passing across the moon.

"Her true death was unfortunate, though not surprising. For young rulers, the threat of death always looms. They lack the political savvy to adequately control the levers of power for very long."

"Still… She was your wife. I'm sure neither of you envisioned things ending up this way."

Eric glanced away at this. "I suppose she believed my presence would mitigate the risks of her post, but you saw how readily she accepted and acted upon my advice." He shrugged lightly. "On a personal level, while I'm pleased to be free of my marriage contract, I'm regretful it ended in such a way."

It was one of his usual careful tricky answers, that meant more than what he actually said, I just had to know which way to take it. Which I didn't. I dropped my hand from his arm, but he caught it before I could. "Danny seems nice."

"I think so too," I said. Though I wasn't sure how my chances fared after Eric's little surprise visit.

"But a human? Really, Sookie."

"I can make it work," I said lifting my chin, though the amusement dancing in his eyes seemed to defy me. His eyes traveled to my lips, which I had no doubt were red and swollen with the evidence of my earlier activities.

"If you say so…" He stroked my knuckles with his thumb and released my hand.

"Well, I do," I said. "Now please tell me what's going on. I've been scared witless for y'all. Pam said no one from your side died. Were there any significant injuries?" We got to the pool area and I threw off my cardigan and began collecting up the plates and utensils from dinner.

"The state seceded easily. Pam's right, no losses on our side or significant harm to vampires and businesses alike. Arkansas followed suit. Both states were ready for a change of leadership. Sandy, though, Sandy has reported significant losses in Nevada. It's still being fought over; Thalia has staked no claim on it."

I stopped what I was doing to regard him with shock. "Really? She doesn't want Nevada?"

He nodded.

My eyes widened. "That sounds…"

"Bloody."

"Yeah. I 'spose now every vampire and his horse wants the cash cow." Nevada was a rich state. I dumped everything in the trough-style sink built into the counter next to the grill and turned on the faucet. I figured it would be easier to hand wash the dishes here, rather than carry the messy tableware back to my duplex.

"Precisely," Eric said. He leaned against the bench beside me. "Nevada's profitability was what kept Louisiana and Arkansas afloat, for the most part."

"I've heard Louisiana is doing better financially these days."

"It is…" Eric said. His tongue rolled across his teeth and he appraised me silently. "You seem to have your finger on the pulse."

"I've learnt it pays to," I said, annoyed at his implied surprise. "Was that wise of Thalia to do? To cut Nevada loose like that?"

"She has no experience with ruling; it's best if she focuses on the one state she's most familiar with. Arkansas has gone to the regent Felipe had assigned to it, Aline James."

"I never understood why a ruler would want to control more than one state. I mean, aside from the obvious allure of power. It seems a lot like spinning plates."

Eric blinked. "Spinning plates. What do you mean?"

"Ya know," I gestured with my sponge. "It's a circus act. The performer runs back and forth across stage keeping spinning plates balanced on poles. The moment one plate is spinning fine, another looks like it's about to topple. So, he spends the whole time running around like crazy trying to keep everything righted."

"Ah," he nodded with understanding, "yes, I suppose it is like that."

I dunked my hands back into the water but encountered something sharp.

"Ouch." I jerked my hand back out. I grabbed some paper towel and wrapped it around my fingers. I'd cut myself on my chef's knife.

"Are you okay?" His nostrils flared.

"Fine," I groused. "There's a first aid kit in a plastic tub under there." I nodded toward the shelf beside the grill.

I squeezed my hand tightly as Eric retrieved the tub. The cut stung like a mother. Eric opened the container and I turned my back to him to have a look at the damage. The paper towels were a mess of blood. The wound was right on the middle knuckle of my pointer finger, a good half-inch in size.

"Are you sure?"

"A simple laceration," I said tightly. I could almost see right down to the bone. In fact, when I bent my knuckle, I could probably really see-I grimaced and closed the towel over the wound. Ick.

At my direction, he took out a small dropper of iodine solution and a bandage. He thankfully stepped back, while I saw to cleaning and dressing the wound. I noted uneasily the way his pupils dilated as he saw the bloody paper towels.

"I'm worried about Thalia," I told him, as I finished applying the gauze and bandage. The bleeding had stopped extremely fast, which I was grateful for. Especially given my current guest. "I just can't picture her as Queen."

"You two have struck up an unusual friendship," he remarked.

"Tell me about it. I still can't wrap my head around it."

I drained the sink and wiped my hands dry on some fresh towel. I'd just have to carry the dishes back up and do them later. I grabbed the last beer and nodded for Eric to join me at the table. He sat on the seat directly opposite, stretching his long legs out beside me. His booted feet stuck out from under the table. I kicked off my sandals and propped my feet up on the chair beside him.

Eric waited until I'd taken a sip before speaking. "How are you enjoying your career change?"

"It's overwhelming and challenging and stressful and rewarding."

"So, you love it."

"So, I love it." I smiled.

"Mr. Cataliades certainly speaks of you in glowing terms." A ghost of a smirk played across his lips. Was he teasing me? I narrowed my eyes at him.

"I'm pleased Felipe is gone," I said, changing the subject. I'd been dying to talk about it with someone. "I'm happy for Thalia. But I'm worried, Eric. I'm worried for her. I'm worried about what this means for Louisiana's stability." Particularly as I'd just carved out my own little niche in the world. "I'm worried for myself. I'm done with being used as a political pawn for vampires. I don't want to go back to that life."

A deep line formed between his brows.

"You were never that, Sookie."

"Yes, yes I was. Sophie-Anne wanted acquire me like a Ming vase and show me off to all the other heads of state. Felipe and Victor tried to control me as a means of controlling you. And Freyda used my safety as a carrot to dangle over you with the marriage contract." And don't even get me started on my fairy kin, I wasn't just a pawn but an easy target for Niall's opponents.

Eric's eyes flashed. "You were never a pawn to me. It won't be like that now."

"Really? I was never a pawn?" I said. "Not even when we first met? I think you thought you could flirt and manipulate me as a means of annoying Bill." I worked to maintain levity in my tone.

"That was for amusement perhaps, but not for politics." He regarded me coolly. "I never claimed to be perfect."

"I never said I wanted you to be," I shot back. I bit my tongue. Bit off the temptation to begin a conversation that had absolutely nothing to do with the matters at hand and more to do with rehashing a history that we were already done with.

"Sookie, you don't have to worry. I assure you, your position is safe here." He paused, his fingers tapping idly against the table. "You know, if I were a betting man, I'd say Thalia did all this for you."

"What!" I cried. I managed to reign myself in and lower my voice to a hiss. "What do you mean she did it for me?"

"She cares for little outside the trappings of vampiric existence. I think you sparked some sort of interest in the greater world. I've never seen her harbor any political aspirations until now. The only thing that's changed in the lead up to this is her growing fondness for you."

"That's lunacy. I never asked her to kill Felipe."

"Sookie, this is a good thing. She's ancient; older than my maker. The oldest in the Americas, bar maybe the Ancient Pythoness. She's a powerful ally for you. And for her, well, the key to longevity for our kind is keeping a healthy interest in life."

"I don't follow."

"You don't have to," he said with a dismissive wave. "Just know she'll fare well as a ruler, particularly with my help."

"…Your help?"

I thought quickly back to Pam's evasiveness on the phone the night before. An unsettling lump announced its arrival in my stomach.

"I shall be appointed as Queen Thalia's enforcer."

My mouth closed. My mouth opened. I couldn't help it, I laughed, loud and long.

"Why… does Thalia… need an enforcer?" I guffawed. I tried to picture a situation—any situation—where she'd send Eric to do her dirty work rather than wield the sword herself. It was unimaginable and equally hilarious all at once.

Eric watched me, his lips pressed into a thin, unimpressed line. When I quietened, he continued, "Officially I will be appointed as her enforcer. Unofficially I will instead assist her politically." Okay, now that made sense.

"Why not just be appointed as an adviser or her second?"

"It's not normally a traditional role in vampire court. Vampires aren't expected to rule autocratically, often they still appoint a second... but there are times where it looks better if they do not." I wasn't sure I knew exactly what autocratically meant, but I caught the gist.

"Why in this instance?"

"Thalia prefers the show of strength it would provide her. Feels it would assure more stability given the amount of rulers here in the last five years. There's also my reputation to consider."

"Your reputation? Ruthless bastard?"

He narrowed his eyes at my quip. "Ha-ha," he said drolly. "Vampires would assume there would be a battle of wills or for power between us. It could be construed as weakness."

"Won't people notice you're not … enforcing?"

A cavalier smile broke across his face. "Who will dare say? What will they do? Pick a fight with the two of the oldest vampires in the United States?" His smile turned positively fangy. "Quite an alluring prospect, actually."

"And what about Rasul? He told me he spoke to you."

Eric raised a brow. "I'm not confident that Thalia will accept him within her court."

"Even though accepted her sovereignty? And helped her take it?"

I remembered how the takeover went down when Victor Madden rolled into town, fangs blazing, ready to set up shop for Felipe's regime. Many of the old guard died by the sword, both figuratively and literally speaking, defending Sophie Anne's regency. But those that chose not to – such as Bill and Eric – simply had to verbally accept Felipe's rule. It was a sort of verbal prostration. And they'd not suffered in the fall out.

"And wouldn't he be a valuable "non-adviser" adviser for her? You've been out of state for several years. I've dealt with him through my work a little. He's knowledgeable when it comes to what's going on in Louisiana."

Eric nodded in agreement. We talked a little about how things had changed in Louisiana since his departure, and I spit-balled ideas about helping Rasul get into Thalia's good graces, most of which Eric laughed off. It'd either have to be a delicate dance or a matter of backing her into a corner. Both options sounded dangerous to me.

He asked me about my thoughts on New Orleans as a city, and if I'd returned to Bon Temps much since moving here. We chatted a little about Pam too. He expressed pride in the good work Pam had done for Fangtasia and in her role as area sheriff. I was pleased to hear it.

"So, now that you're Thalia's enforcer, this means…" I said, as the conversation wrapped up. I knew it what it meant, but still needed to hear it with my own two ears.

"Yes, Sookie. It means I now call New Orleans home." He stood, as I grappled with his announcement, and he retrieved an envelope from inside his leather jacket. "I look forward to bumping into you more frequently, Miss Stackhouse."

His words were innocent, though coming from his mouth they sounded positively wicked. He brushed a lingering kiss to my cheek and left.

I stared at the envelope.

What now?

I reached for my beer only to realize I had finished drinking it over the course of our chatting. Resigned, I sighed and slipped my thumb under the envelope's tab.

There were two slips of paper inside, the first a short note written in his distinctive, loopy hand:

As promised.

E

The second slip I removed with shaking hands. It was a check written out to me for $398,572.15, the exact amount I needed to pay back to the bank after the fire, authorized and signed by Felipe de Castro.