Warnings: graphic violence, suicide references, significant substance abuse, strong language and explicit smut. There is an overdose scene in this fic but there are NO major character deaths.

Additionally, this fic has an intentional low point around Chapters 10-12. You may be annoyed by some of the main character's actions until then but they will change. growth and all that jazz ;)

Lastly, each chapter will quote song lyrics because 1) I am a music nerd and 2) it's crucial to the plot. I'm selecting them intentionally. I highly recommend listening to the song to get the mood I'm trying to portray.

Song credit for this chapter: Evil Gal Blues by Dinah Washington

ACT ONE

Grace Williams took her foot off the gas and glanced at the printed MapQuest directions on the empty passenger seat next to her; it was early evening, but she could still make out the words indicating she should turn left. She shifted her foot to the brake and slowed her beat up red Prius at the stop sign. She looked down again and her forehead creased in concern. Things didn't seem right. The directions led her away from the casinos and Red River District, where she had assumed her audition would be. Instead, it appeared Grace was supposed to head toward the airport and surrounding warehouses.

She should have listened to her intuition then and there, avoiding an encounter that would change the rest of her life. But instead, Grace pushed down the nagging feeling in her stomach and sealed her fate. She was running late; she needed to get a move on. Unplanned traffic back in the middle of the state prevented her from stopping at the motel before the audition, so the singer needed to be efficient when getting ready in the back of her car. She had already warmed up her pipes alongside the shitty Top 40s songs on the radio.

Grace huffed, eventually twisting the steering wheel to the left and continuing her journey. After almost 6 hours of driving - trekking from New Orleans to Shreveport - she couldn't wait to get out and stretch her legs. Her agent Johnny had promised a short-term job with thousands more than she was making now, which was enough to entice her to make the trip for the weekend. But it still was rough on the body. After a few more stop lights, Grace took a final turn and guided her car onto a seemingly quiet street. She returned the directions to the empty passenger seat and turned down the radio. The Prius rolled along slowly as she looked for building number 56.

"36 … 43 … 48. What in the fuck, where is it?" she swore, not understanding how the city planners had labeled the warehouses in this block. Or, honestly, why was Johnny directing her here in the first place? This didn't strike her as a part of town that hosted events. A little voice in her head wondered if he'd tricked her into visiting a sketchy bar or one of those strip clubs near an airport that caught wandering men in its web.

After Grace's car passed number 52, she spied a bright light not too far ahead broadcasting into the street. It signaled activity and was likely the place she was looking for. The brunette stopped in the middle of the road to determine if she should enter the parking lot. Was this it? She rolled down her window, trying to get a better look at the outside entrance and sensed that it'd recently been redone. A vivid red awning with painted poles and a velvet rope created a place for patrons to line up and wait to get in. Next to the building number 56 was a matching red neon sign written in elegant script.

Fangtasia.

Her heart started pounding in her ears. She threw her Prius into park and scrambled to find the directions again. Grace's breaths became short and shallow as she looked at the address on the paper, matching it with what she saw out her window. But this had to be the wrong place! Maybe she should have used that new service Google Maps to direct her to the audition instead. MapQuest clearly had sent her to the bad part of town or maybe she accidentally entered Street instead of Road. This couldn't be it. She needed to call Johnny again and reconfirm the address. This really couldn't be it.

But then, the sad realization dawned on her as her hands gripped the steering wheel and her knuckles turned white. Johnny never led her astray. He'd always given her the correct address and she'd never written it down wrong. For this trip, she triple-checked that everything was good before she left New Orleans to prevent her from wasting her time. So, if all of that was true, Johnny had intentionally sent her to a vampire bar. This was the right place.

Suddenly, a car behind her honked and told her to keep moving. Grace gasped and jumped slightly in her seat, caught completely off guard. She hadn't noticed their headlights coming.

"Up yours!" she growled, putting her hand out the window and giving them the middle finger. But the singer didn't budge.

The driver mirrored her gesture as they swerved around her, and soon she was alone on the street again. She exhaled and hunched forward in shame, tucking some of her straight dark hair behind her ear. Then she took a shaky inhale and looked at the neon sign again.

Was she really going to do this? Was she really the type of person who worked for vampires? She'd met a few unassuming ones before at jazz night clubs - that tended to happen in a town like New Orleans after the Great Revelation - but had also seen that vampire Russell Edgington rip someone's organs out on live television before casually throwing it back to the Weatherwoman. It wasn't wise to easily trust them. And Grace had read how some of the human population responded, protesting and vandalizing vampire-owned establishments. Did she want to deal with being harassed on the job and outside of work? Could she tolerate being called a fangbanger?

Abruptly without warning, something shot out from the shadows and appeared next to her car door; Grace recoiled immediately. She tried to settle her heartbeat, but it was still racing. She stared at the man before her and began to drink in his features. He seemed of Italian descent, just like her Mom's family, but his skin was pale and luminous. He wasn't a large fellow but emanated darkness and power. He bent down to her level and focused his dark brown eyes on her green ones. She felt her brain turn into mush. He was just so mesmerizing, the way his brown hair framed his face …

"Are you Grace Williams?"

"Yes," she blurted out before she could even think. He nodded and broke the spell. Grace still thought he was handsome as hell but wasn't drawn to him as much anymore. She gulped, her stomach twisting into knots. What just happened? Had he been controlling her?

"We've been expecting you," he said. "Come in."

With that, he zipped back to the red awning and stood in front of the door. Grace blinked, still stunned that Johnny had sent her to a vampire bar and they, in turn, had assigned a vampire bouncer to come out and collect her. We've been expecting you. Just thinking the words again sent a shiver down her spine. What did Johnny promise she would audition for? Was she about to be a snack? She was done if the vampire bouncer put her under his spell again.

Grace's mind spiraled into even more unlikely hypothetical scenarios. Maybe this had been Johnny's plan all along. Perhaps he wanted the vampires to do the dirty work so he could get rid of her without getting his hands red. Yet, when her eyes found the neon Fangtasia sign again, she realized that there was something else, something a lot more likely that scared her even more.

Failure. Leaving this chance and having nothing to go back to.

She'd never been able to book regular gigs, but it wasn't her fault that all the big promoters only wanted skinny girls. It was a sad reality she'd been at war with since she decided to make it on her own in Los Angeles at eighteen. And now, at twenty-seven, it made her bank account suffer and always hover above empty. The gas and motel money from this trip alone would set her back at least a month and she wouldn't be able to pay rent without something to show for this adventure. She'd done something stupid, all for the promise of a gig that sounded almost too good to be true. Well, it was. It had vampire strings that came along with it. But Grace felt like she didn't have a choice. She hadn't been ready to admit she was desperate, but now after quite literally looking Death in the face, she couldn't ignore it.

This was rock bottom. She needed this job. She couldn't afford to live otherwise. Her instincts were screaming at her to run and hide and find something else that didn't come along with a death wish, but she knew what she had to do.

"Fuck," she swore. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Her hands started acting independently, directing the car into one of the parking spots next to the entrance. Her mind whirred to life and took inventory of the outfits she had stashed in the back of her car. What did vampires like? What did they want to see? She started by adjusting her rearview mirror and adding a bit of cat eye makeup and red lipstick. As for clothes, Grace decided not to go too over the top. She would simply display her assets. She looked down at her checkered men's button-down and shrugged it off. Her black tank top underneath was cropped and fitted, showing off her ample chest; it would do. However, Grace looked down at her thick thighs and grimaced at the skin spilling from her comfy road trip shorts. That wasn't sexy. She would need to change. She opened the car door and dropped her feet onto the concrete.

"Hey, you," the singer called. "Give me some privacy, yeah?"

The vampire dipped his head in acknowledgment but didn't avert his eyes. Bastard.

Regardless, she opened the rear passenger door and crawled into the back seat. Grace picked up a high-waisted black denim pencil skirt from one of the bags in her footwell and went horizontal to shimmy off her shorts. She really didn't want to take them off - the particular skirt in question caused chafing between her thighs if she wore it too long in the heat - but Grace wanted to accentuate her hourglass figure. She could suck it up for just the audition. After successfully making the change, the artist rummaged around for a pair of black high-heeled booties in another bag and found her silver flask instead. She knew it was stupid to drive with an open container but felt thankful she had access to some liquid courage.

Grace didn't hesitate; she popped it open, tilted her head back and poured the amber liquid down her throat. After draining the flask, she took in a sharp breath to try and get the taste of alcohol out of her mouth and threw the container back into the footwell. It landed next to the shoes in question and Grace shoved them onto her feet to complete the desired look. She hoped it would be enough.

She grabbed her purse from the front seat and opened the car door. The vampire sped over to her - eliciting yet another surprised gasp to pass through her lips - and offered her his hand. She exhaled, rolled her eyes and accepted his help to get out of the car. She told herself that she would have to get used to creepy vampire movements if she was actually going to work with them. The bouncer finally opened the front door to the warehouse and motioned for her to walk through.

"Pamela is waiting for you."

"Who's Pamela?" she inquired, putting a hand on her hip.

"The vampire you need to impress."

"Ah," Grace noted. Now that she had to prove herself to a woman instead of a typical man, she would need to pivot her strategy. The bouncer smirked and again motioned for her to go inside. She almost asked for his name but decided against it in case she didn't get the job. She had to remain somewhat unattached for her sanity.

Grace entered the warehouse and went to the central room. The house lights were on, allowing her to see that it had been recently renovated just like the outside, with everything in pristine condition. There was a bar fully stocked with liquor to one side and a small platform on the opposite side, complete with a massive chair that looked like a throne. Whatever that was for. But the performance stage in the back of the room immediately drew her eyes; a lanky dark-skinned man sat at a piano, running his fingers over the keys and producing a fluid improvised melody. His hair was shaved on the sides but full of small dreadlocks on top. In front of him was a collection of round tables for a presumed audience and a blonde woman sat at one of them. She wore a soft pink cardigan with a hot pink skirt and nude pumps and her hair was pulled back into an effortless chignon.

This must be Pamela, Grace thought. She exuded controlling Madame energy.

"Howdy," she drawled. It was not a friendly greeting, her voice dripped with annoyance. "I'm Pam."

"Hi," the singer responded awkwardly. "I'm Grace."

"I know. You're late."

"Sorry about that, I hit some traffic -"

"Blah, blah, blah," she interrupted, deadpan. "Don't care. Now get on stage."

Grace gulped and dipped her head respectfully, hoping it would help her get in Pam's good graces. She walked over to the platform. The man at the piano eyed her curiously as she leaned against the stage, pushed her ass up to the next level, swung her feet around to the side and moved to stand up, all while blocking Pam from seeing up her skirt. Now that Grace was closer to the piano player, she could tell he was also a vampire. He had the same lifeless energy as the others.

"We have stairs, you know," he chuckled.

"The heels helped get me part of the way up," Grace joked to cover her nerves. "But I'll keep that in mind next time I need to get up here."

"You're bold to presume there will be a next time," Pam sassed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Now if you're done talking …" Grace restrained herself and the man ran his fingers across the keys again to fill the silence. "I'm building an intimate cabaret show for our grand reopening and it will be different from what our clientele are used to. But get this straight, cupcake. This place runs on sex. We make more money when our customers want to fuck." Pam flashed her an unsettling grin. "So, with that in mind … show me something vintage. Louis here can play just about anything. Go on, name a tune."

It wasn't much to go on, but Grace knew this was part of the audition too. Pam wanted to see her think on her feet, understand how she could read the room and demonstrate how quickly she could pair with another musician. Grace took in a deep breath and glanced over at Louis. He smiled and resumed idly playing the piano to fill up space.

"What'll it be, sweetheart?"

Her mind raced. What was the best way to showcase her strengths? Should she do something jazz? Blues? Rock and roll? No, that wouldn't have the right effect without more band members to add to the sound. At least a guitar. Fuck, what was she going to pick? Grace imagined going through a rolodex of all the songs she thought she could pull off but got nowhere.

"I don't have all night," Pam called.

Grace caught the vampire crossing her legs and huffing with even more annoyance as she checked her diamond watch. Focus, the singer told herself. What did Pam want? That's all that mattered. She said sexy and vintage, but what she didn't mention outright was that this was a vampire bar. Underneath all of the glamor, Grace felt there needed to be a spooky, scary tone. This place celebrated Halloween every day; sex and death were the staples on the menu. The holiday reference focused her attention on a playlist she'd made a few years ago for her friend's party with the same vibe. And that's when a potential song popped into her head that seemed to hit all the criteria given her circumstances. Or so she hoped.

"Do you know Evil Gal Blues?" she asked Louis. He lifted his eyebrows and smiled slyly.

"Which version, Dinah or Aretha?"

"Dinah. Aretha's cover deserves a full band behind it."

"Agreed," he chuckled. "Alright now, give me a moment. I haven't played this one in ages. I'll take a walk and then lead you in."

As Louis adjusted his dark pants and fiddled with the opening chords to her chosen tune, Grace knew she had to get in the right headspace to knock the song out of the park and get the job. She turned her back to Pam and strutted towards the back of the stage, gathering her hair and securing it into a messy bun. Louis looked over and nodded, signaling that he was starting the interlude. Grace nodded back and slowly rocked her hips to the beat to further get in the mood.

The artist had to show them she was unique because the most consistent positive feedback she'd received was that she could convey a feeling. Grace's voice could bring excitement, pleasure, sadness or nostalgia. Her supplemental acting was the icing on the cake for her performance to captivate an audience. Yet, what consistently came along with the feedback was that she didn't fit the beauty standard they were looking for.

But she wouldn't let that stop her, not this time. Not after she felt how much she wanted this job. How much she needed it, more than she'd ever needed something in her life. It scared her. So, no more being demure. She focused on the vampire in front of her again. Fuck whatever Pam's beauty standard was; Grace was going to set Pam's beauty standard. The singer used that spirit to propel herself into the opening verse as she turned around and belted out the lyrics like she meant every word.

I'm an evil gal

Don't you bother with me

Yes, I'm an evil gal

Don't you bother with me

I'll empty your pockets and fill you with misery

Her voice dripped with sensuality and smoke. Grace was too lost in the music to notice the energy shifting in the room as both vampires watched her intensely. She forged on, never losing focus. She hadn't been laid in ages but put everything she had into being magnetic and acting like the following verse was true.

I've got men to the left

Men to the right

Men every day and men every night

I've got so many men

Mmh, I don't know what to do

So I'm tellin' you daddy

I ain't no good to you

She launched into the next verse, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. As she continued to sing about her blues, Grace felt no shame in how much she loved getting into character. At one point, she grazed her fingers over the narrowest part of her waist and activated a bit of self-pleasure to take her performance's sex appeal to another level. Pam's fangs dropped in response. Louis let out an indulgent shout of appreciation as she wrapped up the final verse.

Mmh, I said if you wanna be happy

Don't hang around with me

'Cause I'm an evil gal and I want to set you free

Grace heaved to catch her breath but never broke eye contact with Pam, even though the vampire looked like she wanted to fuck and eat her at the same time. Louis shouted again and added the flourishing touches to the mood before hitting the keys again to end it. The singer had never felt this spent in her life after a performance. She'd left everything on that stage. Something had unlocked within her and she felt the tingles from the earlier alcohol alongside something else that she couldn't quite name. But it was addicting.

"Well, Pamela?" Louis finally broke in. The vampire was still speechless and Grace hadn't dropped her gaze. But once she did, Pam's unsettling grin appeared again as she uncrossed her legs, reached into her purse and pulled out a contract that she promptly threw onto the table before her.

"Congratulations, doll," she purred. "You're hired."

Author notes

EEEEEEEEE, it feels so good to be back! It's been about three years since I wrote a new chapter, ten years since I started a new story and fifteen since I've written something outside of the Harry Potter universe. I didn't expect to dive head first into the True Blood fandom, but I'm here now! I've got some emotional stuff to work out and this story will be perfect for channeling all that.

Some thoughts on what to expect …

This is not an Eric/OC/Bill love triangle fic, if that's what you're looking for. This is Eric/OC, with King Bill causing some strife. Sookie won't make an appearance, but I will reference her. I don't have a beta so suggestions and critiques are welcome! It's my first time writing anti-hero main characters, so I'm a bit nervous, but I think I can pull it off. Big shoutout to SpiceHoney for being a sounding board so far :)

It will also be like 20 chapters max, shorter than I'm used to. I'm intentionally trying to keep it within the year timeline between the Seasons to encourage me to finish it. The epilogue will open the door for a sequel should I pick things back up again.

Please tell me your thoughts, I would love to hear from you!