Chapter 21

I was cold.

Goosebumps prickled my skin. I could hear the familiar whomp, whomp, whomp of something close by, though I couldn't recall its origin. I knew that sound. What was it? I stretched my legs against crisp sheets and yawned deeply.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself staring at a ceiling fan rotating slowly above the bed. I was back in my hotel room.

The room was devoid of natural light, though a lamp sat on the floor beside the bed, casting the room in a muted auburn glow. I blinked in the direction of the windows. It took me several seconds to comprehend what I saw. Light-tight roller shutters. I was back at the Marriot hotel, but it was not my room.

This was a vampire-safe room.

I sat up with a gasp. Memories of the night before hit me with such violence, it was as if I'd run headfirst into a brick wall.

I grasped at my shirt. I wasn't in clothes I recognized. In fact, all I was wearing was an oversized t-shirt; one I'd never seen before. I pulled up the hem gingerly. And fresh cotton underpants. I slid out of bed and tested my strength on my feet. Fine. I was fine. I made a dash for the bathroom. I flicked on the lights and pulled my shirt up to examine myself under the light.

I ran a hand along the plane of my abdomen. My belly was warm and smooth. No wound. No scarring. A patch of skin, pink and newly healed, was the only testament that something incredible had happened to me. I slumped against the vanity with a sob, choking on the hysteria. How I had known what was happening while simultaneously knowing nothing at all was terrifying. I'd taken an enormous risk, all on a hunch.

But I was okay. I'd survived. I took a deep rallying breath.

I relieved myself and washed my hands. Remnants of blood was still caked into my cuticles and under my nails. In the mirror I saw my hair had been loosely tied back, but it too was matted with blood. I needed a shower. I exited the bathroom to find a towel but came to a stop when I saw a figure in the corner of the room slumped in an occasional chair.

"Eric." Beside him, on a low end-table, sat Thalia's sword, the xiphos.

"Care to explain what the fuck happened tonight?" he asked. His voice was subzero.

I didn't need to wonder if this was the real Eric. His accent, which was only this distinct on extremely rare occasions, hinted to a particular flavor of Eric-anger I was very much familiar with.

"I can't."

"You're lying."

"I'm really not."

I guess I'd be waiting to have my shower. I reluctantly sat on the edge of the bed nearest him.

"I watched you bleed out. I carried your lifeless form out of Fangtasia in my arms. I witnessed you die," he said in a deep growl. "Don't fucking tell me you don't know what happened."

I'd died? I hadn't expected… How was that possible? I'd assume I'd come close and heal... just like my thumb had. Like my bruises and scraped face after my run-in with Walt Buhler. Like the bruises on my back from Rasul.

"What exactly happened after you left Fangtasia?" I asked, hollow with shock.

"I flew here with you. I did as you asked." He leaned forward, dropped his head in his hands and remained like that for a silent, dreadful minute. "I wrapped your wound first." He spoke so quietly I had to strain to hear it. "Staunched the flow as much as possible. By the time I arrived here you had stopped breathing. You were cold when I laid you in this bed. I sat and waited. You were… you were like that for ten minutes, maybe longer. I heard your heart first. A faint flutter and then you resumed breathing, so quietly I was sure I was mishearing. The wound closed."

"I actually died?" I asked, still unable to comprehend what he was telling me.

"Yes. You were gone."

I wiped the tears that slipped down my cheek with a shaking hand. How? How? All I remembered was the blinding pain of removing the sword and then waking up in bed.

I had no sensation of how much time had passed in between those two events. I'd died. How long had it felt when I was gone? A moment? An hour? I'd clearly made some sort of round-trip somewhere. Hopefully to heaven, but with my track record, who knew.

"You dressed me?" I said when I felt capable of speaking again.

He gestured to the corner of the room where bloodied sheets and my soiled and sorry clothes were rolled up.

"Once I was confident you were healing well, I left to find a Walmart where I purchased clothes."

"A t-shirt."

"Some food, also. It's in the mini-fridge."

I wondered what on earth he'd purchased for me to eat, given the rather lacking choice of clothing.

"You should have warned me. That was a big risk, Sookie. A foolish and stupid one."

My stomach clenched, but I shook the fear off. I understood what he was implying. "You'd promised you wouldn't do anything," I reminded him. "You said you wouldn't turn me."

"You trusted me?"

He looked up and we regarded each other. I got the feeling that he didn't know who was more foolish, me or him.

"I didn't think I'd die."

"You clearly knew something would happen."

"I wasn't sure. I couldn't be sure. I just had… a hunch."

"A hunch," he said with disbelief.

"How long was I asleep?" I asked.

"It's been more than ten hours."

That threw me for a loop. "How are you conscious?"

"Sookie!" He slapped his palm on the table, rattling the sword, and I jumped. "Tell me what happened."

I dragged my hands against my face. How could I explain this? I could barely admit it to myself. I'd never allowed myself to think it through in full. Never articulated the significance of those pinpricks of suspicion I'd been experiencing for months now.

"It started when I first moved to New Orleans," I said. I stared down at my hands. "Amelia was paying me to be her nanny. Her son accidentally slammed the car door on my foot. It cracked my toenail. Split it right down the center. It hurt like a son-of-a bitch. The next morning, I removed the bandage to have a shower and the crack had healed. Completely healed, like the toenail hadn't been broken at all. All that remained was a slight bruise and then nothing."

I felt Eric's laser focus upon me, he leaned forward with elbows on his knees, fingers steepled together. "Go on."

"I brushed it off, at first. Convinced myself that I hadn't injured it as badly as I thought. What else was I to think? Nothing really roused my suspicions for a while after that. But there were little clues, I suppose. Scrapes that would heal by the time I'd have the chance to examine them again. Bruises healing immediately." I thought of when Rasul had pushed me against the fence at my condo. The bruises had been so bright and faded in a day. "It was not until my birthday. You came to drop off the check for me."

"You cut yourself on the wine glass."

"I didn't show you at the time, but I cut my knuckle deeply. Right down to the bone. The next night, after we got back from questioning Agent Ray I redressed the bandage. And it had healed. Not just healed closed but healed completely. Faster than was possible."

"And you told no one? Didn't investigate?"

"I couldn't even admit it to myself! I thought I was going crazy. I decided it was lingering effects of Thalia's blood."

"It's potent, but not potent enough that its effects would speed your healing to that degree months after ingesting it."

"Right. Well, it's funny the things you can convince yourself of when you don't want to admit the truth."

"Right," Eric said with a pointed look. I met his gaze stubbornly but felt my cheeks heat. I decided not to unpack the meaning behind that little quip.

"I don't understand how this is possible," I continued. "Are you sure it couldn't be Thalia's blood? It was only recently that we shared blood."

"You recall you were gravely injured after we were bonded, Sookie. Even with my blood it took you weeks to heal. You still have scars."

"But Thalia is probably three times your age."

"Vampire blood just doesn't work like that."

We lapsed into silence.

"Am I somehow more fairy now?" I asked quietly.

The possibility was frankly terrifying. I wasn't ashamed of being fairy, but there were some facets of my life with which I wanted to maintain continued distance. My relationships with my fairy brethren had been a rocky one.

"Your blood has no discernible change in quality."

I wrinkled my nose. I did not want to ask how he knew that.

"Then how did I—" I swallowed the brick-sized lump in my throat. "How did I come back to life?"

Eric shook his head and but offered no answer. I guess, he had no more clue than I did.

"What happened to the shapeshifter?" I asked.

"It vanished."

"That's right," I said, the memory coming back to me. "I stabbed it."

Eric picked up a small object wrapped in cloth that sat beside the xiphos. He folded back the edges of the fabric to reveal the letter opener.

"Did you realize it was silver?" he asked.

"No. Why would Pam have a silver letter opener?"

A faint smile ghosted across his features. Pam was sheriff now. It occurred to me that she probably had many inventive ways to keeps her subordinates in line. Or maybe it was some quirky joke.

"Well, I hope it freaking hurt when I stabbed it."

"If it was still in my form when you stabbed it, I imagine it would have."

My mind went over the events from the night before. Seeing the shapeshifter at Thalia's home. The confusion when we arrived at Fangtasia. I had been so sure it was Eric when I'd spoken to it, but it wasn't at all.

"I can't believe I mistook it for you," I said. "I can't believe you mistook it for me."

"It's regrettable," he said. "It looked just like you. Hard to deny what your eyes are telling you."

"I asked it to prove it was you, and it shared something I thought only you and I knew."

Eric shifted in his seat, uncomfortably. "Your hand?"

"Yes. How did it know that?"

"When it first came to the club in your form, we had an argument. A rather large one."

I frowned. "About what?"

"What do you think? I thought it was you. We argued about our past."

Well, that explained his coldness to me when I first saw him leaving the basement at Fangtasia.

"I see now it was digging for information," he said, "and yes, I talked with it about the night of Freyda's birthday in Oklahoma."

I exhaled in a big, annoyed puff. Part of me wanted to know the exact nitty-gritty of the argument, to be a fly on the wall, but mostly I was relieved to be none the wiser.

Eric still held the letter opener in his hand and I leaned closer to examine it. The blade was crusted with blood.

"Look," I said, "Is that your blood? Does it smell like you?" That creature had appeared like Eric in every other way. It wouldn't surprise me if its blood was the same as his. The fact the silver blade sizzled when I'd stabbed the shapeshifter indicated it could transform fully into Eric, inside and out.

"Yes, I can smell my blood, and another. The scent is almost human." He brought it to his nose and inhaled. "It's most unusual. Human and not human at the same time."

I let out a breathy laugh of astonishment. The creature's form had flickered before it disappeared. In doing so it had left the essence of its true self behind.

"What is it?" Eric asked.

"You know what this means?"

"Tell me."

"Amelia can use her magic to track it and find exactly where it is."

It only took me dying, but we finally had our break.

•───── ─────•

I showered and by the time I exited the bathroom feeling fully revived (terrible pun, I admit it), Eric had succumbed to his day sleep. He was still slumped in the chair. That couldn't have been comfortable. I briefly considered moving him onto the bed and immediately dismissed the idea. I was fairly confident that while I had managed to evade death the night before, lugging Eric's big form across the floor and up onto the bed was a miracle beyond even me.

I found my wristwatch and handbag sitting on the nightstand. My cellphone was still missing, but I did have my room key. I wondered if I could make the walk of shame back to my hotel room in just the t-shirt. I called down to reception and, after asking the somewhat confused girl on reception what room I was calling from, I discovered my room was only two floors below Eric's.

I decided it was best to wait until nightfall to leave the room. I didn't particularly feel like traipsing around hotel corridors half-dressed. My current most pressing need was more sleep, anyway. I'd just make Eric ferry my clothes and any personal affects I needed from my hotel room. That's what he'd get for buying a me a stupidly enormous XXL t-shirt instead of something sensible.

I tried the extension to Mr. Cataliades room but there was no answer. So, I called through to Aubrey in reception at the law offices in New Orleans. I explained I had lost my cell ("Again?" was her exasperated response) and she patched me directly through to his cell.

"Sookie!" Mr. C said with palpable relief. "You have no idea how pleased I am to hear your voice."

"Probably not as pleased as I am to be speaking to you right now. To be speaking at all."

"You're fine? I talked to Ms. Ravenscroft last night and…" he trailed off, "and she informed me of the dire nature of your attack. I was going to wait to night fall to see…" he trailed off again. I caught the implication. To see if I had been turned.

"I'm fine. I'm still me in the flesh and blood. Breathing."

"Thank goodness," he said with a loud exhale. "Where are you?"

"I'm still at the Marriot in Shreveport. Eric has a room here. I just wanted to check in and let you know I was okay. Has anyone been in touch with Ryker?"

"I'm still in Shreveport also. Ryker is currently in our country's capital, at the moment."

"Since when?" As far I knew, he had returned to New Orleans after leaving Dallas and was planning to work from there until his daughter's murder case was resolved.

"A new act is currently being debated in ," Mr. C said, "to repeal the supernatural marriage equality act. He's working with sympathetic legislators to ensure it isn't passed."

"I would've thought he would be all for it."

"You would think given some of the views he expressed after his daughter's death, however the trouble with this bill is that it would require all supernatural creatures to register onto a national database."

Oh God, so it was actually happening. They were trying to squeeze both motions through together.

"How is that allowed?" I'd learned from my studies that there was a doctrine that meant legislation could only address with one subject or issue as opposed to several in the one bill.

"As this bill pertains to the rights of supernatural individuals, its proponents are arguing its acceptable."

I let out a heavy sigh. Sometimes it felt like one step forward and two steps back when it came to supernatural rights.

"You might want to advise Ryker to come back as soon as he can," I said. I told Mr. C about my run-in with the shapeshifter and how we had the letter opener with its blood on it.

"Sookie–how exactly did you survive that attack?" Mr. C's tone had turned grave.

"I don't know," I said honestly.

For the second time that morning, I explained the strange changes I had encountered since arriving New Orleans, hoping my half-demon boss and mentor might have more of an idea about what was happening to me than Eric did.

"If things are as you say, I cannot think of anything that would explain the phenomena you've experienced."

"A miracle of God?" I said, feeling deflated. Devils resided in this dimension, after all. What's to say my healing wasn't the work of God? Though, the minute I thought that I realized just how self-centered and foolish it sounded.

"I don't think you expect a serious answer to that. I do believe this warrants a visit with Dr. Ludwig once you're back at home."

When we hung up, I felt more confused than before. But there was nothing to do for it. Not right now, at least.

I'd never been very good at facing personal truths, even when the cause of them stared me in the face, let alone ones that I had no answer to. And this truth was a step beyond even that.

I climbed back into bed, turned my back on the vampire ex that was dead for the day in the corner of the room, and went to sleep.

•───── ─────•

I awoke to the sound of the shower running, followed by the rumble of my own stomach. I rolled out of bed and ventured a look in the mini-fridge. There was a bag of apples and a small chicken sub that had clearly been made many, many hours before Eric had purchased it. The bread had turned soggy from the tomato, and it sagged when I picked it up. I contemplated eating the sub and even went as far as unwrapping it, but I found I couldn't stomach it. I ordered some coffee and food through room service instead and asked them to charge it to my room. While I waited, I flicked on the television and sat on the bed with an apple.

Eric emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, naked as the day he was born and toweling his hair dry.

"Do you mind?" I said, shading my eyes.

"Nothing you haven't seen before," he remarked.

"Doesn't mean you have to parade around like a peacock."

He responded with an off-color joke about the inaccuracy of using peas to describe his you-know-what. I bit into my apple and focused all of my attention on the television and not on Eric's noteworthy skills at flexibility as he bent over to put on his jeans. I picked up the remote and resumed channel surfing until I found the local news station.

"You better look at this," I said and unmuted the television.

"A chorus of protestors tonight have descended upon local Shreveport bar, Fangtasia, calling for the abolition of the Supernatural Marriage Equality Act. This comes after numerous so far unsubstantiated reports appeared on the popular social media website Facebook, detailing a violent vampire-on-human assault that occurred on the bar's premises in the early hours of this morning. Some of these reports link ex-local businessman, Eric Northman, as an involved party.

"Local authorities have confirmed that they received no calls last night or this morning that would substantiate any claims of a violent incident having taken place; however, Fellowship of the Sun's local chapter, who coordinated the protest, have stated—"

Eric took the remote from my hand and switched it off.

"Idiots," he hissed. "The bar doesn't even open for another four hours."

"I can't believe they named you. We're lucky no one filmed what happened on their phone last night," I said.

"The video would be too grainy. We keep it dark in there for a reason."

I grimaced and checked the time on my watch. I'd slept the entire day away. Recovering from death sure took it out of a girl. A knock sounded at the door. I met the room service attendant in the narrow light-tight anteroom that connected Eric's room to the corridor and signed for the food.

"What should we do about the protest?" I asked and sat the tray on the table.

"Nothing," Eric said, though he was pacing. "The sun doesn't set for over two hours."

"What time does Pam usually rise?"

"It depends on when she last fed. She's still young, so most likely right at sunset."

"I'm confident she'll sort it out. We need to get back to New Orleans and see Amelia."

Eric stopped where he was pacing and watched silently as I began devouring my tomato soup. He then helped himself to a True Blood from the mini-fridge, heating it up in microwave.

"Thanks for purchasing the food," I said, "but I needed something hot."

He sat down in front of me with his warmed blood. "You need to drink my blood."

I dropped my spoon. It fell straight in my bowl and soup splattered.

"Tell me I heard you wrong."

"There were many vampires present at Fangtasia last night who saw what happened."

"So? I'm sure Pam's already brought them up to speed that it wasn't actually you that stabbed me."

"I'm sure she has. That's not the problem. Any vampire that saw your attack last night will know you suffered fatal injuries. Or will assume near-fatal injuries."

I imagined how last night would've felt form Eric's perspective. Having to fight off Thalia and Indira in the entrance area of the club and his attempts to convince them it was really him and not the shapeshifter. How did Pam not realize? Then to struggle against all three only to see his doppelganger stab me in the stomach. He'd brought me back here and watched me die. Eric seemed lost in the same memory. I fished my spoon from the soup and wiped the handle clean on my napkin.

"Can't Pam just tell them to keep their traps shut and forget what they saw?" I said finally.

"Knowing what you do of vampires, do you expect that to work?"

I clenched my jaw in frustration. Vampires were a damned gossipy bunch.

"Well, what does that have to do with me drinking your blood?" I knew exactly what he was thinking about, but I was trying to buy myself time around it.

"Word will spread of what occurred, and if you're seen alive and human, but with no discernible scent of fresh vampire blood in your system, they will begin asking questions."

"Again. I fail to see why I should care."

"Do you really want to pique the interest of vampires again, Sookie? You claim to want to live free from their interference."

"That means yours too," I said irritably.

"If you say so," he said with a faint smile. "That aside, you died last night and came back to life. It's in your best interests to hide what exactly happened to you, unless you're willing to explore the origin your miraculous healing abilities, knowing the majority of Louisiana's vampires will be aware of it and the fact you're still a telepath."

"The answer's still no." He looked like he was going to say more, but I cut him off with the wave of a hand. "Don't push me on this Eric."

"Then how do you plan to explain what happened to you?"

I opened my mouth to tell him I'd just ask Thalia to give me some of her blood if it was that necessary, before realizing that if I were to actually do that, I'd be a hair's breadth away from being bonded with her. We'd swapped blood twice now.

"I just won't see any vampires. And it won't be a problem."

"And the coronation?"

Damn it. I hadn't thought of that. I narrowed my eyes at him. "Stop backing me into a corner, Eric."

"I'm not. I'm pointing out facts."

"I'm perfectly aware of the facts."

"Why go to the efforts to take Thalia's blood to begin with? Is this not what you were hoping to avoid?"

"I've held no illusions that I would ever live a long and peaceful life, but how on earth could I anticipate what's happened to me? …What's happening to me." I sighed and stared into my bowl. "I had hoped aligning myself with Thalia would act as a back-off sign to everyone–vampires and all other supes. Especially at the coronation."

Thinking of the coronation led me to thinking about my plus one. Oh, crap. I'd forgotten all about Danny. First, I'd missed him on our planned lunch date yesterday and then I'd never replied to his text messages too. I was a terrible girlfriend.

"What's wrong?" Eric asked.

"Nothing." I'd have to call and apologize. And hope he wasn't too peeved with me.

"After you've finished your blood, would you mind please getting some belongings from my room?"

"So you've concluded this conversation?"

"Yes, Eric, I have."

His subsequent glare gave no indication of whether he was going to continue to fight me on it.

"Thank you for bringing the issue to my attention," I said. "But I don't need you cajole me into drinking vampire blood." My voice was getting loud now so I picked up my grilled cheese and bit into it, forcing any further words down with the first swallow.

We finished our meal in stony silence. After, I handed over the room key and explained what belongings I needed. I'd barely unpacked so he'd only need to gather up the clothes I'd left on the chair into my travel case and retrieve my makeup bag and toiletries from the bathroom.

Eric paused as the door as he exited the room.

"You need to ask yourself Sookie, whether your issue is with needing to drink vampire blood or with the fact that your only option is to drink mine." The door swung shut behind him.

I crumpled up my napkin and threw it at the door. It fell short.

With a sigh, I found Danny's business card inside my wallet. It was slotted in behind the photo of baby Corbett I'd taken last Christmas and behind that sat Octavia's lucky charm she'd given me for my birthday. I wondered on it briefly, but decided there was no way it had the magic required to bring people back from the dead. With a sigh, I retrieved the business card, where Danny had scrawled his personal number. The business card was the one Danny had left on my desk after the first time we met.

I picked up the phone and dialed his direct line at the county prosecutor's office.

"Finally, the woman of mystery returns my messages!" he said after I'd said hello.

"I'm so sorry Danny. I had to come to Shreveport at the last minute for a work thing. And I lost my phone. Or actually, it was stolen, I think." That was my best guess. The shapeshifting creature had been trying to prevent Eric and I speaking so it could set the whole sorry scene up on Fangtasia' stage.

"You're lucky I'm bogged down with this case, otherwise I might've had time to get mad." His tone was jovial, but it was hard to tell if he was actually miffed at me or not. The drug trafficking case he was working on had been eating up a large chunk of his time since we'd met.

"Busy day then. Working late tonight?"

"I'm trying to drag myself away currently. A little harder when I don't have a hot blonde paralegal to tempt me out of the office." I heard him lean back in his creaky chair. "How are you? You sound stressed."

"I'm…" I searched for the words but whatever I'd been propping myself up with emotionally all day suddenly collapsed from under me. I dissolved into tears.

"Sookie?"

"I'm sorry," I managed to choke out. I wanted to tell him everything. Confide in the roller-coaster I'd been through, but I couldn't bear to put it in words. Couldn't bear to taint the one piece of normalcy that kept me moored these last weeks.

"It's been a long week." I said croakily when I'd pulled myself together.

"Don't apologize. You've had a hell of a work week. You were barely home from Dallas before you were back in Shreveport. That demon lawyer works you hard."

We finished the call with a promise for a date night at his place when I got back. The plans barely registered. I felt like a talking mannequin–going through the motions of what needed to be said, while my mind still reeled from the events of the night before. It was like I was hovering above myself watching myself say all the right things a good girlfriend ought to say.

When I hung up, I stared at the receiver in my hand until I heard the door open. Eric had returned. I hurriedly wiped my cheeks. The last thing I wanted was for him to see me like this.