Chapter 1: Cherry Bomb

The room was uncomfortably bright. The Queen had a strange lingering obsession with sunlight for a vampire her age. But what was really unsettling him was how still everything stood. The fake scenery painted on the windows added to the feeling of being frozen in place and in time. Even the pool water by his feet was smooth like a blue mirror. Eric Northman hated this place. The ridiculously sized New Orleans mansion, the inauthentic architecture, the gaudy decor, the annoying echo of every room, but he especially hated the Queen's fake day room. Everything about it irked him. The bright lighting that was supposed to imitate the sun felt off. It had been a thousand years since Eric felt sunlight on his skin, but whatever this room emulated… Wasn't even close to what he remembered the sun being. Even the large potted palm trees were browning at the edges - unhappy with the illusionist lighting. He shifted on his feet, and caught a glance at his hands - they looked sickly and pale, even more than usual. Obviously. He stuck his hands in his pockets and let out a loud, frustrated sigh. Maybe he hated this place so much because he hated what it meant. Every time he travelled to New Orleans to meet with the Louisiana vampire Queen, Eric had to either ask for a favor or forgiveness.

Eric liked asking the Queen for favors as much as he liked sticking his hand in a running garburator, but right now he could only wish it was the actual reason for his visit. Eric knew he was in deep shit the second he arrived. A regular run-of-the-mill mishap would have been met with a smiley butler and at least a human aperitif, followed by a firm slap on the wrist, and maybe another add-on to his ever so long list of responsibilities as the Sheriff of Area 5. Eric was actually reasonably good at avoiding this, unlike some of the Queen's other Sheriffs. But clearly not good enough. He still found himself waiting for his Queen, all alone in this big, empty, bright room.

Deep, deep shit.

After what it felt like an actual eternity, high heels approached from the room adjacent and the red-headed Queen entered, wearing a beautiful gold sequin gown and bright red lipstick. She did not acknowledge him whatsoever. Instead, the Queen just kept walking beside the pool, chin high, dainty hands clipping her heavy jewel-encrusted earrings back on. Maybe she just got laid and is in a good mood, Eric hoped.

"Good evening, your Highness-"

"Sit down, Mr. Northman," Sophie-Anne demanded.

No recent orgasms were found in her cold voice. Eric obeyed, sitting on the stiff antique chaise behind him, hating himself for it. This was definitely going to be worse than he thought.

"Explain to me again," the Queen continued. "How someone as intelligent and as ancient as you, fell for the oldest trick in the book?" She shot him an icy cold look that matched her tone.

"The problem has been taken care of, my Queen," Eric assured her, wanting to get up and head out promptly, but he knew Sophie-Anne wasn't going to let him out so easily.

"Do NOT take me for a fool, Mr. Northman!" She shouted showing her fangs, pacing around the pool, back and forth. Eric was momentarily thankful there was an entire body of water between them. "You allowed someone to steal from you! A Sheriff! He might as well have stolen from me!"

"And he has paid the highest of prices for it, your Highness. It will never happen-"

"But it did happen, and that is bad enough!" She shouted.

Neither of them knew what to say next. Eric regretted not torturing Longshadow a bit longer before ending his pathetic excuse of a life. Longshadow, Eric and Pam were owners of Fangtasia for three years now, ever since its conversion from a video rental store. Eric knew the vampire for centuries, and he thought he was a man of high intelligence and honor. He turned out to be neither. Longshadow was the first to show up and the last one to leave every night at Fangtasia, never missing a single night. It was probably why it took Eric so long to realize it was him who was stealing from him. Little by little, Longshadow stole close to 60 thousand dollars. Some from Fangtasia, a lot from… Other dealings. Eric blamed himself for not choosing a better partner, but he needed the capital to buy the place next door to expand their little store into Pam's dream bar. He also blamed himself for picking such an incompetent accountant who didn't catch it earlier. Choices were made, mistakes were done.

"No one knows about the money he took or where it came from, your position with the Authority is not in any way compromised. There were no witnesses to what I've done with him either-"

"Well, that's at least something!" The Queen rolled her eyes and sighed in frustration.

If there were witnesses to Longshadow's doing, the Ministry and the Authority would be quick to discover Fangtasia's income was way higher than Eric had been declaring all these years. This was due to an arrangement between Sophie-Anne and Eric, in which they harvested, packaged, distributed and sold V - vampire blood - to humans. Which was both an illegal substance to humans and a high crime for vampires to commit. The Authority long deemed vampire blood sacred. The bonds their magic blood created between vampires and humans were absolutely holy, and not to be diminished for recreational drug use by junkies. But when it came to most rules - Eric couldn't care less. Selling the stuff was free real estate as far as he knew.

"I guarantee-"

"Guarantee what?! That you'll keep track of every cent in and out of your enterprises from now on?"

"Yes!"

"Well, now that I believe," the Queen said, finally letting her fangs retract, and regaining her usual regal posture.

She sat on her vintage lounge chair, gracefully crossing her legs. Sophie-Anne raised her palms and clapped, and a barely-clothed servant entered the room at once as if he were eagerly waiting to be summoned all along. The young man sat on the floor in front of his Queen, like an obedient pet. But her rage could still be heard in her voice when she sentenced Eric to his punishment. "I am giving you my accountant."

The young servant flinched, a look of confusion flashed across his face. Eric, equally bewildered, blinked a couple of times and his shoulder involuntarily relaxed. His big punishment was some accountant? Sure, Bruce's ineptitude was disappointing, but he was the one who caught the missing money and informed Eric in the first place.

"Your Highness that won't be necessary, I can-"

"You cannot, clearly, be a judge of character or competency. Carson will take over all of your affairs. Official and unofficial."

"All my - I think this goes beyond your jurisdiction-"

"I am your Queen, you will take my accountant and you will obey me. Do I make myself clear?!" She raised her voice again.

The servant rested his head on the Queen's lap, gently offering his neck to her. What the hell did Sophie-Anne do these humans to keep them tame like this? Even glamouring didn't last this long. Eric could almost swear that the Queen's staff enjoyed being her slaves. The young man looked at Eric, curious to hear his answer too.

"Certainly, your Highness." Eric nodded, reluctantly. He could handle a new accountant. Letting Bruce go would be a small price to pay. Almost too small...

"You are free to go." Sophie-Anne's attention narrowed on her servant's neck veins.

Eric got up and quickly turned on his heels, he was more than ready to fly the fuck out of here. But even before he made three feet away from his chair, the Queen spoke again.

"Eric…" He stopped and turned his head, glancing at his Queen. "I should inform you that my accountant carries a protection edict under my authority which I now entrust to you. So be careful. Carson can be... Quite delicate," Sophie-Anne warned, and again, with sorrow in her voice. "But not like a flower. More like…. A bomb."

Only spring break would make Fangtasia this full on a Sunday. Eric sat on his usual chair mid-stage at Fangtasia, half-bored as usual. His phone was buzzing with his usual booty-calls, but no one he had the appetite for at the moment. He had been in a weird mood, ever since his visit to New Orleans. It left with a sour taste in his mouth, along with this bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, one that no amount of blood or sex could get rid of. Queen Sophie-Ann had sentenced him to hand over the books of all his businesses to some accountant he's never met, or even heard of. He couldn't shake the memory of the servant's shudder at the mention of his name: Carson. There was something ominous about Sophie-Anne's warning too.

It had been two days, and no one had shown up yet. Not even a letter requesting documents or passwords. Whoever this Carson was, he guessed he didn't work weekends and just assumed he would show up tomorrow. Unimpressed, Eric lazily sunk further in his chair and put his feet up on the ottoman. He considered checking on the guests in the basement. He had chained up three idiotic humans who he had hired to distribute V. The morons ended up getting arrested with 5 vials of the stuff while driving drunk. Drug dealers were getting dumber by the minute, he swore. But tonight he didn't feel like getting dirty. Pam just did his hair earlier tonight and it would be a waste.

Ignoring his phone, he scanned the room. As the patrons danced and silently hunted for the next meal/fuck/both, something caught his eye: a woman. She looked amusingly out of place, but in this instance, it was a good thing. Even though she wore tight black clothing like everyone else, she was anything but. Her tight knee-length black dress had a scoop neckline and ¾ length sleeves, and she wore bright pink pumps. She sat alone in the red leather booth in a dark corner, with a lone white wine glass. Her strawberry blond hair was perfectly done in soft loose curls. Her brown eyes watched the club curiously, and every so often she would type something in her BlackBerry - pale pink almond nails, perfectly manicured. Whatever appetite he had tonight, Eric was sure she would perfectly quench it. Eric nodded to Pam at the bar, and his progeny quickly made her way to the stage. She stood beside him, watching the crowd below, one hand on the back of his throne, the other on her hip.

"Pam, who is that?"

"Ophelia Crawford," Pam sighed, disappointed. "And here I was, hoping you wouldn't notice her..."

She was hoping for the impossible. "Fetch me our guest, would you?"

"Fine," she barked. "But you ain't fuckin' her on your desk, I spent hours preppin' all the paperwork for the next accountant-"

"Just go, Pamela."

With another sigh, the tall blonde made her way through the crowd. The patrons quickly cleared her path, as they knew better to not even dare to touch Pam. Over the heavy metal music blasting in Fangtasia, Eric couldn't make out what Pam told her, but he could read the surprise and confusion on the woman's face. The human grabbed her silver clutch and her cellphone and closely followed Pam towards the throne. Once she stood up, he could study her better. The girl wasn't tall enough to be a model, but she certainly had the face of one. High cheekbones, nice lips with dark wine coloured lipstick, big brown eyes with a smokey eye. The way she strutted in her heels, showed off her impeccable body. If he were to guess, she was a dancer. She certainly walked and moved gracefully like one. Vampires in the club finally took notice of her. It was like watching a white swan cut through a crowd of bloodthirsty hyenas. If it weren't for Pam's presence, the human would not have made all the way to the stage.

"Ophelia Crawford, meet Eric Northman, Sheriff of area 5. Eric, meet Ophelia." The girl gave a small smile and nodded."Not on your desk!" Pam warned again in old Swedish before leaving the two alone and heading back to the bar.

The white swan stood by his feet, unsure what to expect next. From here, he could hear Ophelia Crawford's heart beating fast and scared, but her face didn't show it. It made her ten times more enticing.

"Take a seat, Miss Crawford."

Without a word, the woman sat on the chair next to him. It was right then that he caught her scent. Ophelia wore Chanel No. 5, and even though it wasn't that popular anymore, it gave him a happy feeling of pure nostalgia. But there was something else coming off her skin. It was smooth and sweet, like wildflower honey. It was golden like her hair, bright like her eyes. She smelled divine. Eric liked the way she looked at him. Kind, and sweet. She was a doll. What the hell was some like her doing here?

"Are you lost?" He asked her quietly.

"No," she chuckled. She had small dimples when she smiled. "I was supposed to meet an old friend, but I suppose her babysitter is late..."

"Can't say I'm saddened by this."

"She told me a lot about Shreveport and this bar. It's quite…" She looked around trying to find the correct words to not be rude. "Something."

"You're new in town?"

"Yes," brilliant.

"I can show you around if you wish."

"Oh, really?" Her smile was making him hard already.

"I'll start by showing you my office."

She was about to say yes, but suddenly her expression changed. She paused, and her eyes grew nervous, and she clutched her purse and phone again. The swan changed right in front of his eyes, to something much less enchanting. "I'd love to, but you're about to get raided."

"What?"

Ophelia got up instantly. "There's a vampire feeding on a human in the men's bathroom. Bye-"

And Ophelia got up and b-lined to the emergency door beside the stage, disappearing outside. Eric got up with the intention of following her into the dark alley and taking her neck right then and there, but the night had other plans. A man shouted in the crowd, and suddenly the front door busted wide open with Shreveport cops. All patrons started screaming and running, and absolute panic ensued. Eric glanced at Pam, who disappeared down to the basement to hide their dumbass drug dealers. Fangtasia staff knew the raid procedure: hide the illegal shit first, escape second.

Eric rushed to the men's bathroom, and not to his surprise there was a man, mid-50s and poorly dressed, passed out on the tile floor, bleeding from a bite on his neck. Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy. Whoever did this, he was going to rip their fangs out himself. Eric grabbed the man by the scruff of the neck, bit his own hand and shoved in the man's mouth. Back from unconsciousness, he only let the man suck on it twice. He pulled his hand away and wiped the remainder of blood on the man's neck to close off the wound. The man stood in front of him, looking at Eric as if he were a God.

"Run little lamb, run," Eric told him, snarling with his fangs.

With a little scared whimper, he finally left the bathroom, and Eric could finally leave. Hoping Pam had everything under control downstairs, he ran through the same door Ophelia escaped seconds earlier. There were people and vampires running and cops yelling outside, but luckily, Eric could fly and disappear into the night.

When he landed on the porch of his own home, he let himself breathe by sitting on the steps. The silence felt foreign for a couple of minutes. His house was tucked away in a forgotten suburb pocket, not too far from Fangtasia. He intentionally had let the garden trees and bushes overgrow for privacy. Any minute now, Pam would land and they would debrief.

You're about to get raided.

How in the fuck did that woman know? Was she in the bathroom minutes before he noticed her? If yes, what was she doing in the men's bathroom? And how did Pam or Chow not catch this? And why did Ophelia escape? Being human, she wasn't at risk of being arrested. Unless… She was.

Pam landed and walked right past him, pissed off. Eric followed her inside.

"It's the second fuckin' time this month!" Pam sneered, not even looking at him. "Fucking cunts!"

Eric closed the front door. "Did you-"

"Yeah, it's fucking taken care of. They won't find shit in the basement."

"She knew," Eric told her unceremoniously.

"Who knew?"
"Ophelia Crawford."

"What?!"

"She knew there was a vampire illegally feeding in the bathroom, and she knew a raid was about to happen. Want to enlighten me how?!"

"Eric, I watched her sit in the booth all fucking night. What the fuck?!"

Pam took off her high heels and threw them across the living room, right into the mirror hanging in the foyer. She threw them with such force, the first heel broke the mirror, the second one knocked it off the wall. The silver-colored glass exploded everywhere.

"FUCK!" She screamed.

Too tired to deal with angry Pam and the glass everywhere, Eric just retired to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He understood his progeny's anger. If the cops caught the vampire eating a human in the bathroom, not only it would make the news but it would majorly piss off the Authority, the 8Magister, the Queen and even worse, the American Vampire League. But since Eric was tipped seconds before, he managed to avoid it by the skin of the fangs. If the cops found the humans or the V in the basement… It was a close call, way too fucking close.

If it wasn't for that woman...

Eric laid in his firm king-size bed, kicking his shoes off. He closed his eyes and tried to slow down the mental rush spiralling with worse case scenarios. Tomorrow was Monday, and Fangtasia was closed. Plenty of time for him to go hunting. And he certainly knew who was going to be number one on the fucking list.

AN:

Guess who's back! ME!

I'm a sucker for crime shows featuring anti-hero characters (Ozarks, Good Girls, Breaking bad, Suits, The Good Wife) so I figured I could write one in my favourite fandom. I only have the first 3 chapters written so far, I'm kinda winging this one (gasp). Not sure how close it will follow the show yet, Sookie will NOT be a part of this story.

Anyway, I hope you like it

xoxo