Disclaimer: again, Women Who Run With The Wolves has a significant influence on this story and specifically this chapter. If you know, you know :)

Song lyrics: Man! I Feel Like a Woman! by Postmodern Jukebox featuring Allison Young. Original lyrics by Shania Twain but find this cover on Youtube if you really want to get the feel for Grace's performance in this chapter.

Grace woke up the next afternoon in a daze. Not because she was hungover but because she was still feeling the effects of the Xanax and sleeping for so long. Her body was sluggish; blinking her eyelids open felt like lifting weights. And fuck her head hurt.

It was a Herculean effort to push her grogginess aside and reach for her phone to check the time. It was about four pm. She then noticed the onslaught of missed messages. Vincenzo reminded her that a day man could get her anything she required until he could come by. Louis had texted her many times, finally letting her know that the band would get together that night to debrief on what had happened. And finally, there was a short, terse message from Eric telling her she would still be paid according to the contract despite the show being canceled.

Grace sunk back into the bed, still feeling immensely hollow and broken. She asked herself if the night before had actually happened. It wasn't the first time the deviant had been around cops. She'd been charged with a misdemeanor in Nevada for possession of small amounts of cannabis and cocaine and really should have gotten a DUI in Ohio if it wasn't for her white privilege. While it was all nerve-wracking, Grace had never shut down like the night before. As soon as the police busted into Fangtasia, she couldn't breathe. She was frozen to the spot.

And when Eric showed up, her systems crashed even further. She'd bottled up and ignored her feelings for him for weeks and they all rose back to the surface overwhelming her. Yet this time, she quickly pushed aside her attraction because she felt scared of him. Grace was sure he would blame her and serve her an even worse punishment than the cops, as he did with Dallas. It was why she eventually admitted to her abilities after he shook her; she had to let him know she was a good girl and this wasn't her doing. The singer hoped the truth would save her from his torture but it ultimately didn't matter because the Shreveport police shipped them off to the station before he could do anything. As for how he felt now … Grace wasn't sure from his recent text and she didn't want to think about it further. Her feelings for Eric were still too raw and painful, so she pushed them back down again.

Time passed, although she wasn't sure quite how much. Grace finally dragged herself out of bed, tired of being tired. She threw on an oversized Santa Cruz Skateboards hoodie she'd stolen from an old band member long ago and went to the kitchen to make some coffee. She would need the caffeine to bring back her mental clarity. When she walked through the formal living room, Bert was waiting and mewing by the glass sliding door and it was way past the time she usually fed him. Grace flinched. She felt her fog momentarily lift out of concern for the animal and swore profusely, opened the door, realized she didn't have the food and backtracked to the kitchen. She threw open one of the cabinets to grab supplies and noticed Bert standing in the hallway when she turned back to the living room.

It was the first time he'd entered the house.

"Oh!" Grace lightly gasped. "Hey there Bertie!"

The orange boy meowed and turned in a circle, finally stretching his paw forward to get her attention. Grace giggled - she was still washed, but the cat was too damn cute - and slowly walked over towards the door to put food in his bowl outside. But Bert didn't follow her. Instead, he walked down the hallway toward her sleeping quarters, looking back several times to ensure her eyes were on him.

"Aren't you curious?" she chuckled as she put his food bag on the floor and casually trailed behind him. Bert chirped happily and sauntered into her bedroom; Grace wondered what he was up to. She attempted to scoop him up into her arms as he rubbed himself against her bedframe, but he evaded her and strolled into the bathroom. Grace jokingly called him a little butthole, but her amusement faded when he jumped onto the ledge of the built-in bathtub and mewed at her. It was replaced with extreme panic and the desire to run away as fast as possible. Yet her feet remained rooted to the ground as she started to feel her new mischievous power shoot up her spine. It called for her to dip into the tub.

"I'm not doing that," she stated firmly. She wasn't sure if she was talking to the cat, the foreign energy or herself, but felt the need to say it out loud. She was too shattered and sluggish to withstand another encounter with that woman. Bert mewed at Grace again before leaning down and sniffing the side of the tub. She moved to chase him out of the bathroom since she was the boss, not him; she would make her own decisions. But he tiptoed over to the other side and loudly meowed before rubbing against one of the taps and turning it on.

"Hey!" she yelped, quickly reaching out to turn it off. Bert hissed at her and settled into a loaf of bread shape next to the hot water control to guard it. Grace scowled and tried to swat him away but he stayed put, hissing at her again. She put her hands on her hips in frustration. "What the hell am I going to do with you?"

Bert responded by rubbing against the tap once more and turning on the hot water. Grace felt her anger rise but stopped herself before things got too out of hand. She heaved deeply, disgusted at herself for thinking that being forceful with the animal was a good idea. He was just being a stupid cat. Didn't they knock things off the table just because they could? That's the type of animal she was dealing with, it wasn't like it was deliberately pushing her towards her fear. The shame soon settled in and Grace felt a prickling sensation at the corner of her eyes. The tears came shortly afterward, blurring her vision and spilling down her cheeks.

The floodgates opened. Fuck, she was tired. Tired of erratic sleep patterns, putting on a smile when she 100% did not feel like it, ignoring her breaking heart and running away from something that felt natural but wrong at the same time. Her body started to crumble as her sobs consumed her; her knees buckled and she hunched forward, putting a hand to the side of the tub to steady herself. Grace sniffled and looked down to see the water flowing out of the tap. It looked so inviting, so comforting. It'd been so long since she'd found peace.

But that woman. Grace didn't want to face her, to accept that she had something wrong with her that this woman could potentially help nurture and grow. She turned away but the energetic feeling in her spine filtered out to the rest of her body and encouraged her to return. The artist hesitated - was this really a good idea? - but finally caved. A bath would feel so good; she missed the release. Maybe if she didn't smoke, she wouldn't go to that underground place. Maybe it would just be a normal soak and she'd feel whole.

"Fine," she huffed to no one in particular. "You win. But I'm getting a snack first. And if things get weird, I'm out."

Bert chirped and spun around in a circle before settling back into a loaf. Grace knew she had some time before the two-person tub was full and meandered to the kitchen to eat. She slowly returned to the bathroom to turn off the water, hesitated again and doubted her choices. But eventually, the singer overcame her anxiety and lowered herself into the tub after stripping off her clothes.

She immediately melted into bliss. Grace sighed and closed her eyes; she was back in the place where she felt the most comfortable and supported. Why hadn't she done this sooner? Why was she denying herself the thing that brought her the most tranquility? The heat worked its magic and relaxed her aching body, which brought back her tears. They were timid at first but grew as Grace let herself feel deeply and released her depression and ennui. After her loud wails turned into whimpers and the sadness subsided, she dunked her head under the water and felt truly cleansed. A weight was lifted.

But while the experience was liberating and long overdue, her tiredness returned in full force. Grace sighed and tilted her head back, closing her eyes again and breathing deeply. She counted to five with her inhale and seven with her exhale to calm her nervous system … but the pattern brought her closer to the realm she was heavily trying to avoid. Her mind detached from her body as she fully relaxed and slipped into a trance, landing back in the mysterious cave network below the earth. The familiar redheaded woman was present again beside the underground stream. There was a larger pile of bones at her feet than before; they were also decaying with scraps of flesh attached to them. And she was scatting, singing nonsense syllables in a very ritualistic way.

Grace felt her heart race and her head whipped around, looking for an exit. No, she couldn't be here! She needed to leave. Immediately. This was not a safe place, it was full of evil. But as soon as the thought passed through Grace's mind, the woman looked up and flashed those wicked eyes again; a wild energy struck her core. Yet she wasn't blasted out of the mirage and transported home this time. Instead, the woman gave her a cunning smile and a young orange cat peeked out from behind her … that looked exactly like the one sitting next to her bathtub. Grace's eyes widened in shock.

"B-Bert?"

The woman finally spoke to her with a deep voice.

"His name is Leandros."

Grace's skin turned cold and clammy. Her partner communicated with her in another language she'd never heard, but she understood her perfectly. What the fuck was going on?

"Do you control him?" she whimpered.

"I connect with many animals," the older woman said as she slowly leaned down to pet the cat's head. "I needed to watch over you and guide you home. I introduced myself before, giving you a choice to see me again and embrace your nature. You avoided me and continued to use your gift without initial instruction. That is against our sacred rules."

Bert (or Grace supposed she should now call him Leandros) lovingly butted his head against the woman's hand and purred. Grace gulped. It was one thing to have vampires watching over you, another to have some spiritual feminine … creature trying to influence you. The situation also made her wonder what else was out there. Vampires were common knowledge, but what other supernatural beings existed? She shuddered at the thought of all the darkness in the world.

"Who are you?" Grace finally asked.

"I am your ancestor."

Her brain scrambled to put two and two together and guess how they could be related. Her tan skin likely meant she was from her mother's side, but her wrinkled face was the biggest clue. She looked similar to Grace's great-great-great-something-or-other grandmother when she came to America. Her Ellis Island immigration photo was one of the only things Alessandra kept of her Italian heritage, jettisoning the rest at her husband's request. Grace coveted the photo growing up to try and understand who her mother had been before she met George.

"Are you from Naples?" she guessed timidly. It was where Alessandra's family was from. The redhead let out a screeching laugh.

"I was alive before it was a city. But it is where my body washed ashore after my death."

The artist panicked; her heart raced. Oh fuck, how old was this woman? And if she was dead, how was she still visiting her now? Her thoughts spun round and round in her head, more questions bursting forth when no answers appeared.

"... What do you w-want?" she stammered.

"I am the keeper of your soul. I transform the dying into living," her ancestor began. "You, my child, have been dying for many years now. And you deny yourself a cure by refusing your power and instinctive knowledge."

Well, no shit. Her power was sinister and dangerous, of course she refused to give into it … but at the same time, it was the first time anyone had ever mentioned what she could do. Against her better judgment, she ached to learn more. The electric feeling pulsed in agreement and overcame her anxiety to continue the conversation.

"What is my power?" She had to know.

"Your creativity," the woman answered. "It hypnotizes other beings and compels them to do what you desire." She paused to give Grace a menacing look. "If you had visited me sooner, you would know it is not wise to begin your journey by manipulating others, as you have been doing. Your intentions will be twisted, the aftermath weak and unstable."

"That … explains some things," Grace said under her breath. Dallas in particular.

"You must begin by altering your nature first to build strength. It is why I have called you here. This is the source of your power, the river beneath the river. Do you feel it?" Grace looked around at the underground cave with curiosity; her eyes widened when she felt the electricity crackle underneath her skin. "Good. Return here in your mind when you sing. Call forth the feminine power of this place as you focus on what you desire of yourself."

Grace closed her eyes and committed the scenery to memory. Her doubts slowly minimized; her emotions felt lighter and lighter every second that went by.

"The more you embrace your bones, the stronger your power becomes," her ancestor continued. Grace's eyes opened and she moved to ask which ones she was referring to because the bones in front of her looked rather grotesque and not something she wanted to touch. The woman held out a finger to shush her. "And along the way, if those around you do not respect your true nature, then they should not be in your life. Friends." Her stern look was back. "Or lovers." Grace's chest suddenly turned bright red, her skin flushing with nervousness and desire.

"Noted," she said meekly.

"Once you are ready, you can extend outwards to others and protect yourself from any trap with lasting results. In my day, I could direct a legion of men to do my bidding and protect my sisters."

"Then how did you die?" Grace blurted out before the woman could stop her. The redhead sighed and looked down at the bones.

"There is one weakness all of our kind must learn to navigate. If the target of your power refuses you or the intention does not come to fruition, you will suffer. The stronger you become, the more it affects you. In my case, it caused my death."

"When you say our kind …" Grace couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence. She waited on bated breath, on the edge of finally knowing what she was becoming.

"I do not think it wise to tell you. I do not wish to cloud your perception of what you can do. There have been many lies spread about us over the millennium. They caused our extinction. So you must learn independently now that you have had your initial instruction. I shall leave you for the time being but I will return when you need me."

Grace's initial reaction was bratty and selfish. What the hell? If she was truly the keeper of her soul, she should be a lot more helpful. Some kind of mentor she was. But the woman sighed, smiled softly and began to sing again. Grace felt her eyelids start to close and she fought against her sluggishness. No! She had so many more questions! She needed to know more about what she was and how exactly she could build her power, the woman had been too vague. But Grace eventually lost. When she fluttered her eyelids back open, she was back in the bathtub above ground and Leandros (no, she was still going to call him Bert, fuck it) was nowhere in sight.

She'd been absolutely frightened the last time she returned from the river beneath the river. But this time, the singer felt surprisingly calm and her stamina returned like she'd drank five cups of coffee. She didn't feel the need to wallow. It was time to get on with her day … or night, she realized as she looked out the window. Grace took in a deep breath, forced herself out of the tub, sighed indulgently and lovingly touched her skin as water dripped down it. Her body didn't feel big and heavy, it was beautiful. She smiled genuinely - fuck, she couldn't remember the last time she did that - and dried herself off before checking her phone again to figure out when she needed to be out the door. Louis had texted saying to be at the practice studio in an hour.

Grace took her sweet time getting ready, basking in her new confidence. She dried her hair and threw on a pair of high-waisted flared jeans, a red cropped sweater, clogs and minimal makeup before getting her purse together. This time she decided to drive Eric's gift to the studio. She'd been so scared to use it, but dammit, she'd earned that car and it was time to take advantage of it. Grace hopped in the front seat of the black Porsche 911 and giggled as she peeled out of the driveway and floored it. She'd never felt so alive.

It took no time to get to the studio. Grace parked the car in the front and hummed to herself as she opened the front door and walked inside. She'd expected the entire band to be there, but Louis was the only one in the room. He was at the piano, his fingers dancing over the keys like always.

"Am I early?"

"Yes," Louis said sternly, stopping his playing. "I called you here before everyone else 'cuz we need to talk. Why all of a sudden is Eric Northman ordering me to give him daily updates about your work?"

Her brows rose in surprise. She sighed and looked back at Louis, who seemed hesitant. That's when she remembered his behavior over the past few weeks. There seemed to be something else they needed to address outside of Eric.

"What are you really asking me?"

Louis stood from the piano bench and ran a hand through his hair, troubled.

"Honey, I know you're something different. You have a way with words … What are you?"

"Fantastic question," Grace muttered, hoping he wouldn't hear.

"Huh, what now?"

His question gave her a potential out; she could twist the conversation and avoid talking about the subject at all. But Grace didn't want to hide. She remembered her ancestor's words and took a gamble. If Louis didn't accept her, perhaps it was time to stop looking at him as a friend.

"I haven't got a clue!" she finally admitted. It felt good. "It's the fucking truth. I don't know what I am. I just know I can … mesmerize people when I perform. And then they do what I want."

"Shiiiiiiiit," he drawled. "Have you ever influenced me?"

"No. God, no. You're my friend, I have the utmost respect for you as an artist and a vampire. I've mainly wanted the crowd to crave sex, just like Pam said to in my audition."

"Yeah speaking of that … did you con her into hiring you?"

"No! I mean, yes, I wanted her to hire me, but I just wanted her to think I'm beautiful. That … may have put me over the edge."

"What about someone else in the band?" Louis said as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"I haven't intentionally hurt anyone in the band."

"Hmmm, interesting choice of words there darlin'," he challenged. "Intentionally."

Grace gulped.

"Alright, I may have inadvertently charmed Dallas to think he could claim me. But it was an accident I swear."

"I knew it. That boy is a flirt, but damn! He'd never defy the Sheriff or the King like that. You did him dirty, even if you didn't mean to." Grace bit her lip. "So let me guess … Leon isn't spending money out of the goodness of his heart, is he?"

"He was another test," she explained. "But it didn't hurt anyone, did it? It just brought Fangtasia more money!"

"So this explains the text I got tonight. Eric knows now?"

"He has some idea," she said with a grimace. As much as she loved Louis, she wouldn't admit she'd influenced Eric too. Because it would force a discussion about her feelings and that was still a closed door despite all the forward progress she'd made that day. "Last night I told him I didn't manipulate the cops to save my ass. But I don't know what else he knows. I'm not sure about Pam either."

"Fuck," Louis swore. He sat down and shifted back to putting his fingers on the keys to help him think. "Alright look …" A few more chords passed. "I'll admit I was angry at first when I suspected you could do something. I run a tight ship and don't like trouble, ya hear?" Grace nodded adamantly. His right hand traveled up the keys, producing a slow but haunting melody. She held her breath, waiting for the hammer to drop. "But your voice, honey. It makes people feel. And that's the mark of a true artist. You remind me of my mama in that way. And Lord knows I've got some skeletons in my closet … So you'll stay. But you better learn to control yourself. You are not going to fuck this good thing we've got going on here."

"I won't let you down, I promise," Grace reassured.

"Oh, it's not me you should be worried about," Louis laughed. "You've got Northman on you. I won't tell him all the details you just gave me, but you know I'm gonna have to tell him how you're doing, I don't have a choice. But what I don't understand is why he hasn't just taken you yet."

"Taken me?"

"Trapped you for his gain." Grace's heartbeat quickened. She thought of her ancestor's words again. "Because when that vampire wants something, he gets it. He's a suave motherfucker too. When he wants to screw someone, he will. I'm surprised he hasn't made a pass at you yet, with the way he's been eye fucking the shit out of you." Louis trotted out a few more chords. She felt a shiver run down her spine and not the good kind. "I mean, he could just glamor you or feed you some of his blood to really control you … but he hasn't. I don't get it. This whole hunt entirely from the shadows thing, it's not like him. You best be careful, sweetheart. You're playing a dangerous game and I won't be able to save ya if it goes south."

Grace felt her mouth go dry; her hackles were raised. She didn't know why he was treating her differently either. Her mind initially returned to its old patterns, swirling with questions about the contract termination clause and how Eric felt about her. But after meeting her ancestor and feeling Louis' acceptance, the wild energy rose from deep within her and calmed her nerves for the time being. It pushed her to put the strife aside, smile mischievously, walk over to Louis and sit next to him on the piano bench. Her fingers ended up next to his and started playing an idle melody; he grinned and started harmonizing with her on the lower keys. They laughed and jostled back and forth on the piano for a while, playfully teasing each other with different notes.

"Are we late?" Jin cut in after he and the others walked through the studio door to join them.

"Nah, right on time," Louis smiled. He threw Grace one more supportive look before clapping his hands. "Now! Let's discuss what went down and how we can show those fucking pigs we're not scared of them …"

"We're here, Miss."

Grace looked up from her phone and sighed, waiting for Vincenzo to zip around and open the door. She still thought he was silly for doing it, but the act had settled into her routine. She eventually took his hand, exited the Escalade and entered Fangtasia through the side door to get ready for their New Year's Eve show. The singer said hi to the rest of the band and poured herself a big glass of whiskey to participate in Louis' pre-show pep talk and toast. But Grace didn't get to socialize much past that; the glam squad ushered her into the private dressing room since her look for the night would take a bit longer than usual.

As the two vampires worked to give her a dark, shimmery smokey eye and a high ponytail with extensions that cascaded in loose waves down to her waist, Grace nursed her whiskey and tried to remain calm. Her confidence had unfortunately regressed; the doubts, fears, unending questions and crippling anxiety slowly returned after her bath and consumed her. The only bright spot over the last couple of weeks was Louis' friendship. He had put his heart and soul into producing a show worthy of their return and selecting songs he knew would make her shine now that he knew what she could do. She needed his trust more than ever, especially since she'd decided to let Eric go.

He made the first move by almost disappearing from her life entirely; Eric had been distant before, but now he'd taken it to another level. But she knew he was watching her and that put her on high alert. It made her realize that Louis was right, Grace was playing a dangerous game and it was a blessing that he hadn't trapped her. She needed to listen to her ancestor instead of being stupid and naive. Besides her feelings were just a silly schoolgirl crush type thing, not actually real. She reminded herself again that she barely knew him. It hurt at first - Grace cried over a few glasses of top-shelf scotch to nurse the pain - but over time, she buried it back down like she'd done with all her past heartaches and refused to reopen that wound. She liked this job and didn't want to risk it. On to the next one she kept telling herself. Seeing him tonight wouldn't change anything.

Suddenly, her dressing room door burst open and Pam strutted in, holding a black garment bag. She quickly shooed the other vampires out of the room.

"What's this about?" Grace asked, looking over at what she thought was her outfit for the evening. They'd agreed on a Zuhair Murad silk gown, complete with a sweetheart neckline and crisscrossed draping.

"I changed my mind. I know you don't like corsets, but I'm going to insist."

Pam closed the door, hung the garment bag on the rack, unzipped it and pulled out a stunning black dress. Grace's jaw dropped. It was strapless and had a wing-tipped neckline, a fitted bodice with impeccable vertical lines and feathers and sequins sewn onto the train at the bottom. It also came with a pair of matching gloves.

"Go on, try it," the vampire grinned, handing the outfit to Grace. The singer turned the fabric over with her fingers, still in awe of what a beautiful design it was. But she really lost it when she moved to find the zipper and spied the tag. It was a Mugler, but stitched underneath the designer's logo was Grace's name and dress size.

"How - what?"

"Thierry is a friend. I walked for him in the 90s," Pam smirked. Grace couldn't believe it at first but then realized that Fangtasia's second-in-command would fit right in at his notoriously avant-garde runway shows. "I've always loved this dress, so I asked him to make another one. It deserves to be worn by you tonight. You can keep it."

"Oh. My. God. I don't know what to say!"

"You'll find some way to repay me, I'm sure. Now come on cupcake, I'll lace you up."

While there was still a lascivious tone in her voice, Grace noticed that it wasn't as strong as her earlier days. She let out a happy little squeal, slipped out of her robe and stepped into the dress; Pam commented how this felt like the days of her youth as she cinched in her waist. The results were dramatic. Grace's hourglass was exquisite and her sternum tattoo playfully peaked out to say hello. But the styling from head to toe bowled both women over. It projected femininity and sensuality to the rafters.

"Fuck, I'm good," Pam said as she preened in the mirror. "My best look yet."

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen. Please silence your cellphones and enjoy the show."

"Well break a leg, doll."

With that, Pam took her place in the crowd and Grace went to the side wing. Her fear tried to pull her back with each step, the familiar soundtrack of doubts playing over and over in my mind. But once Louis stepped on stage, the train was in motion. He started his opening speech and thanked everyone for coming because they were, in fact, going nowhere after the last raid. They would continue to speak out about the injustice and if the police were looking for trouble, they came to the right place … which led him straight into the opening lyrics of Elvis Presley's 'Trouble'. The crowd erupted and Grace shivered, nervous as fucking hell as the show inched towards her entrance. She almost didn't make it. But she broke through her panic and remembered her ancestor's advice. It was worth a shot, what other plan did she have? She was going to fail otherwise and they'd fire her. The artist closed her eyes, returned to her river beneath the river, felt her power flash across her skin and thought about what she wanted. What she truly wanted of herself. And after a few moments, a sentiment came to mind.

I want to be enough. Dear God, just let me be fucking enough.

"Now I know y'all have missed her. I know you want to hear what she's got to say. Please welcome Miss Gigi St. Claire to the stage!"

"I hope this works," Grace prayed under her breath.

And oh, how it did. The crowd burst into even louder applause once she pranced on stage, her tantalizing Gigi smile on full display. Her untamed spirit rejoiced and she felt a massive surge of energy as she flirted with the audience and threw out a few winks. She breezed through her opening pleasantries about causing some chaos herself and then prepared for her first number with a devious smile. Ana had suggested the cover and Louis translated the arrangement to a Marilyn Monroe style so Grace could bring her best 'Happy Birthday Mr. President' impression to the stage and embody the famous sex symbol.

Goin' out tonight, feelin' alright

Gonna let it all hang out

Wanna make some noise, really raise my voice

Yeah, I'm gonna scream and shout

A few people cheered as they recognized the lyrics, but she shut them out. No one else in the room mattered but her, not even the Viking on his throne. Her confidence flowed through her body, her hip swishes and hand gestures adding embellishments to her words. Grace bit her lip for good measure in between verses and oozed sensuality with everything that she did.

No inhibitions, make no conditions

Get a little outta line

I ain't gonna act politically correct

I'm only gonna have a good time

She ran her hands down the corset of her dress, feeling on top of the world. The experience was better than the effects of whiskey, cannabis or stronger substances. And the crowd ate it up. Especially the females.

The best thing about bein' a woman

Is the prerogative to have a little fun

Woah-oh-oh, go totally crazy, forget I'm a lady

Men's shirts, short skirts

Woah-oh-oh, really go wild, yeah, and doin' it in style

Woah-oh-oh get in the action, feel the attraction

Color my hair, do what I dare

Woah-oh-oh wanna be free, yeah, and feel the way I feel

Man! I feel like a woman

The word reverberated in her bones. Her feral vigor grew exponentially; it felt like she was a video game character, leveling up. The high was nothing like she'd felt in previous shows. It was heavenly and rich, but more importantly, soul nourishing. The superhuman feeling propelled Grace through the rest of the song and she indulgently tugged at the words, adding sex appeal with her choreography at every opportunity. She ended the number with a flourish, fluttering her voice and blowing a kiss when she was done.

It was then that the rest of the room came back into focus; Grace received the loudest applause she'd ever heard in her career when the rest of the band finally stopped. Even Louis turned to look at her with appreciation for her performance. But when she panned around the room to drink it all in, it was Eric's reaction that truly struck her. His distant nature was nowhere to be seen, her performance and evolved strength had broken his defenses. His expression showed a sense of shock and amazement, quickly turning to unabashed desire; his hands tightly gripped his throne to keep him from doing anything stupid. The exchange chipped her armor too. Her eyes playfully paused on Eric a moment longer - damn, he looked good in a suit - before returning to the scheduled program. She could still hold him at arm's length but didn't know for how long. Her body suddenly craved him even though she knew he was potentially dangerous.

"Now who's ready to get wild tonight, Fangtasia?" Grace cried, following the script but definitely feeling the sentiment herself. The females laughed and shrieked the hardest, a few crossing over to other tables to cheers each other in celebration. Grace moved on to her next song but kept her attention focused on her mind, body and soul instead of the audience (and specifically Eric) because she was feeling the best she'd ever been in her life. She was sufficient, valuable and worthy; the doubts were nowhere in sight. It was absolutely glorious and she let out a few wicked laughs during her next few songs when the feeling particularly hit her.

The rest of the show was a grand success, especially since Pam had hired a very talented contortionist and burlesque dancer to time the end of her performance perfectly and reveal her g-string and pasties right at midnight. The crowd was drunk on blood, booze and sexual energy and howled for the band to keep going after their encore. Grace didn't want to leave either - shit, she never wanted the night to end - and she peeled off her gloves like the earlier burlesque act and threw them into the tables to satiate the audience. They roared and she blew them a few more kisses before bursting into happy giggles on her way to the main green room. Her sense of feeling alive was back in full force.

The band wasted no time celebrating the new year; Andre passed out blood bags to the other vampires and plopped a bottle of champagne in front of Grace. She made a theatrical performance out of popping the cork and everyone cheered as it hit the ceiling and she put the bottle to her lips. She made sure not to overdo it but continued to drink champagne with the others, enjoying the sparkling sensation alongside the fizzy feeling of her mystical power. But the party was soon broken up when something flashed into the room and stopped right next to Grace like a magnet finding its mate. In her elevated state, she perceived high levels of desire and protectiveness as soon as it happened.

"Howdy boss," Ana greeted, raising her blood bag.

She knew it was Eric even before Ana said anything - hell, even before she got a true look at him - because of the wave of familiar darkness that hit her. It wasn't the first time she'd encountered it, but Grace's attuned supernatural senses picked up his unique vampiric abilities loud and clear that night. His energy washed over her skin and the sound of how fast her blood was pumping roared in her ears. But it wasn't because she felt worried or apprehensive. In fact, the experience was fiery and arousing in a way she didn't want to admit. It was getting harder to keep Eric at a distance when he was this close and she was this powerful. Her own darkness wanted to rip his fancy clothes off. And it would trap him if things came to that, even if she wasn't strong enough yet. She wasn't scared of a fight.

"The King's progeny and her human would like to meet the band," Eric said, explaining his presence matter of factly. Grace pushed her desire aside and felt her hackles rise again. She expected the vampire in question to be old and powerful and she wasn't about to be domainted. Not when she felt this good. Eric seemed to notice her state, turning his eyes toward her while keeping his body in place.

"You mean the little baby vamp? The one at the front center table?" Samira asked. Grace's eyebrow popped up in surprise. She'd briefly noticed the girl during the show, thinking she was too young to be there and especially not old enough to wear such a low-cut dress and heavy makeup.

"Indeed," Eric smirked. His eyes moved back to the other vampires in the room now that Grace had calmed down a bit.

"Let's give her the white glove treatment y'all. Wouldn't want to piss off the King," Louis said rolling his eyes and hopping off his chair to get a blood bag and glass of champagne ready. Grace could have given him her bottle, but she couldn't move. She felt her body automatically lean towards Eric now that he was her focus again, desperately wanting to be closer. The Sheriff, in turn, kept his eyes forward but moved his arm near hers feeling the same connection. Acceptance and attraction resonated from him. Grace almost moaned when their fingers lightly brushed against each other; it was torture and he felt it too, clenching his jaw to keep himself under control in front of everyone.

"Welcome behind the curtain, sweetheart," Pam said flatly with a forced sweep of her hand after opening the door and letting a redheaded vampire and her human enter the room. Her annoyance was clear. Louis immediately put drinks in their hands and introduced everyone in the room; the girl giggled, clearly overjoyed that she was backstage. Her human, however, was much more reserved. He placed a hand around her waist to keep connected to her.

"Oh my gosh, I'm still not over it. Your show tonight was amazing! Amazing! This is the best New Year's I've ever had!" the baby vamp squealed before taking a sip of blood. "Man, I miss it here."

"Come any time you'd like, sweetie," Imani offered nicely. But she didn't realize that Fangtasia's second-in-command disagreed. Pam crossed her arms over her chest in annoyance, thankfully out of view of the visiting couple.

"Do you really mean that?"

"We appreciate the offer, but we're pretty busy these days," the human cut in.

"Hoyt! Come on, we never go out. It could be fun!"

"Jess, we talked about this …"

"You're always welcome here Jessica, you know that," Eric charmed, trying to smooth things over. But Grace felt his annoyance too, slightly dimming the sexual tension between them. It made room for her curiosity. She wondered why he and his progeny disliked her, Jessica seemed innocent enough.

"You know, I'm overdue for a shopping trip. Hoyt, you don't have to come." Her human glowered. "It can just be a girls' trip. Pam, remember when we used to shop together? Wasn't that fun? Let's do it again!"

"I'm busy," the blonde declined.

"But I haven't even told you what day yet!"

Jessica shot Pam a pleading look and Grace finally surmised that she was just young, needy and lonely. And Pam wasn't a babysitter. But if she really was the King's progeny, then yeah they did have to give her the white glove treatment and Pam's behavior might ruffle the King's feathers based on what Grace had heard about him. And that's when the opening occurred; the way to pay her back for the dress.

"I'm free," Grace offered. Pam's face lit up with glee. Everyone in the room turned towards her, even Eric. The sexual connection between them severely dropped as he closed himself off.

"Stay away from the King's orbit," he growled under his breath so only she could hear it. She felt his anger and protectiveness but he didn't need to be her savior. She could hold her own against a baby vamp and besides, it would be a sneaky little way to gather some intel on the King himself with the way Jessica was babbling. Maybe it could help Grace make her first move on the chessboard.

"Eeeeeee!" Jessica screeched, turning around to face her with wide, excited eyes. "I would love that! Oh my God, your performance tonight was just - just - well amazing! I've never felt so much like a woman!"

"Jess, I think it's time to head home," Hoyt said nervously. "You know cars on the road at this hour, I don't want to run into any drunk wahoos and get hurt."

"We wouldn't want that," Pam reacted, rolling her eyes.

"Your human is right," Eric cut in, glaring at his progeny. "I'll walk you out."

Jessica pouted but wriggled out of Hoyt's grasp to approach Grace and get her number. She gave it freely but still focused on the Viking's cold hard body next to her; she found herself craving him again. She didn't want him to leave. But he was determined and brushed the singer aside as he led the visiting couple out of the room with Pam in tow. As the rest of the band went back to their drinks, Grace felt like someone had knocked the air out of her lungs. She still felt powerful from her performance, but her soul wanted its pair back no matter how dangerous he seemed. Because he seemed to like her true nature. Grace reached for the champagne bottle and took a big swig to distract herself from the fact that apparently her feelings were going nowhere, no matter how hard she tried to avoid them. And if it was going to be like this every time she saw Eric, then she would have to do something about that to release the tension.

Something like kissing the ever loving shit out of him.

Author's note: Well, earlier than expected. I seem to do that haha. This probably could have been two chapters instead of one but whatever! Welcome to Act II :)

Before we dive in, I want to address the lack of true Grace/Eric time so far. I hate doing it and it's my biggest struggle right now, but there's a method to my madness I swear. Act I was a lot of setup (for them and Grace's abilities) and it will pick up next chapter I promise. But I'm trying to show the difference between love at first sight and love that will last. Because we all are rooting for something lasting between them!

Also, all of Grace's show outfits are based on real designs. This one happens to be the dress that Kylie Jenner wore to the Thierry Mugler: Couturissime exhibit in Brooklyn. Hate her, but love the dress if you want to look it up!

Thank you so much for the support thus far. 27 has some autobiographical elements to it (will explain more about this at the end of Act II) so it truly truly truly means the world to me that you like it. Please leave a review, I would love to hear from you!